Brotherly Link
by Lady Aura
Summary: Harry gets a letter, and Xander's more special than he thought. Harry Potter crossover.
1. Ch 1: Stuck In the Middle

Author's note: For the purposes of this story, the events of Half-Blood Prince did not happen. For one thing, I've only read the book once and don't really remember details, for another, it sucked. I haven't really decided what _did_ happen in Harry's sixth year, but I'm sure that will make itself apparent as the story goes on.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. Potterverse belongs to Rowling and Buffyverse belongs to Whedon. And that's that. I doubt I can even lay claim to the plot – there are no original ideas anymore.

Cross-posted to Twisting the Hellmouth.

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Chapter 1 – Stuck in the Middle

_Clowns to the left of me _

_Jokers to the right_

_Here I am_

_Stuck in the middle with you_

_-Steve Miller_

It was the summer before seventh year. Harry and the Weasleys were just finishing breakfast when a large black owl swooped in through the open window and dropped a letter onto Harry's plate. The bird was gone as quickly and as silently as it had come, not even stopping to rest its wings.

Ron frowned at his best friend. "Who's it from, Harry?" he asked. Harry shrugged, turning the letter over.

"There's no return address. Just this seal." He indicated the ornate dragon stamped into the emerald green wax. Arthur, who was gathering his things to go to work, glanced over Harry's shoulder and gave a little gasp.

"Harry, that's Draco Malfoy's seal."

Harry turned around quickly, his brows knitted. "Malfoy's?"

The head of the Weasley house nodded. "He took on that seal when he took over the Malfoy estate this summer. He's been corresponding heavily with the Ministry in order to set all the paperwork straight."

Harry nodded. Narcissa Malfoy had taken ill soon after her husband had been sent to Azkaban, and had died near the end of June, about three weeks before. It made sense that Draco was probably very busy getting his inheritance under control.

Gingerly, as if expecting the letter to explode (which, knowing Malfoy, was a possibility), he slid his finger under the seal and popped it open, unfolding the parchment. The script on the page was neat and precise, in emerald green ink. He began reading aloud.

_Potter,_

_I know it probably comes as a shock that I, of all people, would be writing you. Rest assured that I still hate you as much as ever, and only under these very unusual circumstances would I degrade myself by communicating with you._

Ron snorted. "Good to know _he_ hasn't changed."

_As you most likely already know, my mother is dead and my father...incapacitated. As a result, I am the sole heir of the Malfoy estate, and as such, have been very busy these past few weeks doing paperwork, closing my parent's accounts at various establishments, and sorting through their things. While doing so, I happened to come across my mother's journal. Naturally, I read it. What I found shocked me._

_Your father had an affair with my mother._

There were gasps all around. Harry's eyes went wide, reading the statement over and over again. It just wasn't possible that his father would do such a thing to his mother, not in a hundred years.

Ginny nudged him slightly, indicating he should keep reading. Harry did so, numb.

_I can just see your face. I know, I was upset as well. But I couldn't just stop reading there._

_It would seem that several years before either you or I were born, during their seventh year, my mother met your father in a pub. Both had been drinking heavily. One thing led to another – I won't bore you with the details – and in the morning both woke up with hangovers, barely remembering what had happened. They were so disgusted with each other that they vowed never to speak of it to a living soul, sealed it in blood, and never saw each other again._

_I would not have bothered to inform you of this...indiscretion, except that the story does not end there._

_What your father – and of course, my father – never knew was that my mother became pregnant by your father._

Harry stopped again, soaking in the implications of that statement, before Ginny's comforting hand again prompted him to keep going.

_Mother was still in school, of course, so she used a very advanced potion to disguise her pregnancy. Professor Snape was one of her best friends, and the only one outside of Dumbledore who knew of her condition. She couldn't tell him who the father was, as the blood magic would have killed her, but he helped her nevertheless, protecting her from my father's wrath and the ridicule of the Wizarding world._

_She gave birth to a baby boy at the beginning of summer, just before she married my father. Snape took the baby and placed him in a Muggle orphanage in America, as far away as he could take him. No one ever spoke of it again, but the blood magic did not prevent her from writing about it._

_In case you missed the __full implications of all this, Potter, you and I share a half-brother, a pureblood Wizard who is probably very powerful. All I know about him is that he was adopted somewhere in America, his name is Alexander, and he would be 21 now._

_I intend to find him. You may or may not wish to help me._

_-Malfoy_

Harry set down the letter with shaking fingers, looking around the table at Ron, Ginny, Arthur, Molly, and the twins, who were all staring at him with wide eyes and slack jaws.

"Blimey," Ron whispered.

Ginny jumped up and retrieved a quill, ink and a parchment. She set them in front of Harry, who looked up at her in surprise.

"Ginny...?"

"Harry, you've got to write him back. Tell him you'll help him find your brother."

"Gin, it's probably a trap!" Fred exclaimed. "What if it's just some plot Malfoy cooked up to get Harry to lower his defenses?"

"What if it's not?" Ginny challenged. "What if everything was true, and Harry ignored Malfoy, and Malfoy found Alexander? One brother would have come after him, and one would have ignored his existence! Malfoy would have no trouble turning him against Harry!"

"Ginny's right." Harry said softly. "If he's as powerful as Malfoy thinks...and Malfoy gets to him first..." He trailed off as the implications set in.

Dipping the quill into the ink, Harry began to write.


	2. Ch 2: In the Dragons Den

Author's Note: I don't really know where I'm going with this story, except for a few general concepts, so feel free to leave me suggestions.

Disclaimer: In case you were wondering, I don't own it. Thanks to my friend Kate for helping me figure out what to do with this chapter.

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Chapter 2 – In the Dragon's Den

_Placid skies, through crystal gazing eyes  
Slaves to our desire, in a ring of smoke and fire  
The dungeons call, two faces on the wall  
Candles light the way, for a moonlight serenade_

_Silence fills the shrine, giving us the sign  
Forever lost, forever in the dragon's den  
Born with second sight, essence burning bright  
Forever lost, forever in the dragon's den_

_-Symphony X_

Harry shuffled through his room at the Burrow, unceremoniously tossing clothing, books and supplies into his trunk. His mind was elsewhere.

Malfoy had, rather stiffly, invited Harry to stay at Malfoy Manor until they could find Alexander. He had mentioned something about his parent's libraries and laboratories, with a disparaging remark about the suitability of the Weasley household for serious magical workings. Molly had thrown a fit, forbidding Harry from going to "that dreaded house" and generally working herself into a tizzy before Arthur had gently reminded her that Harry was not their son and they really had no say in the matter, as he was 17 and a legal adult in the Wizarding world. The resulting argument was of epic proportions, and Molly would not be appeased until Arthur had rigged Harry a safety net, in the form of the silver celtic knot pendant that hung from a chain around his neck, under his shirt. It was a type of Portkey, only requiring a short incantation to activate. As it was already in contact with his body, all he would have to do would be to say the magic words and he'd be transported straight to the kitchen of the Burrow. Molly had also added a hand with his name on it to the Weasley's clock, so she could keep an eye on his status.

Harry was glad of the precautions. He didn't trust Draco any farther than he could throw him, and even less since Harry was inadvertently the reason Lucius Malfoy was in Azkaban. Still, Draco was right about one thing – they were going to need time, space, and resources to find their brother, and they were probably going to have to work together. Draco had mentioned in his last letter that he had found a spell that might suffice, but that it required the blood of both parents to work. Harry was wary of any spell that required blood, especially after the ritual at the end of his fourth year, when Voldemort had risen. Such spells were commonly known as Earth magic, usually difficult and draining, and often of a Dark nature. There were few witches or wizards who would practice such an art, but those who did were capable of unimaginable things. It didn't surprise Harry in the least to know that Draco had access to such spells.

Harry looked around his now-bare room, running over a checklist in his mind. Clothes, check. Shoes, check. Broom and supply case, check. School supplies, homework both finished and not, and books, check. Potions kit, check. Hedwig's cage, check. His owl was out delivering his last message to Draco, confirmation that he was indeed coming; he would meet her at the Manor.

He closed his trunk with a thunk and locked it before shrinking it to fit in his pocket. Tucking his wand behind his ear, he went downstairs and said goodbye to the Weasleys, thanking them for their hospitality and telling two youngest that he would see them at school. Ron clasped his hand and pulled him into a manly, one-armed hug, whispering in his ear that he should be careful. Harry nodded, and found himself with an armful of Ginny, who kissed his cheek and told him not to take any shit from Malfoy. Grinning, Harry promised, and made his way out to the curb with the Weasleys waving furiously at him. He threw out his right hand.

With a BANG the large, purple Knight Bus landed half on the curb. The doors opened and Stan Shuntpike stuck his head out.

"'Allo, Harry! Where to?"

Harry grinned and handed Stan a handful of Sickles as he boarded the bus. "Malfoy Manor."

"Oi!" Stan said, his eyes wide. "Whatchoo be wantin' to go _there_ fer?"

Harry shrugged and didn't answer, taking a seat in one of the fluffy armchairs that were bolted to the bus floor during the day. Stan rolled his eyes and closed the bus doors, and with another BANG the bus was moving.

The ride was fairly short, with only three stops before Stan threw open the doors and said "'Ere, Harry, 's yer stop."

Harry thanked him with a smile that was more steady than he felt and stepped off the bus. Another BANG and the bus was gone, leaving Harry alone in front of the wrought-iron gates of Malfoy Manor.

He took a deep breath, fingering his pendant under his shirt, and for a brief moment considered saying the words and taking himself back to the safety of the Burrow. But the thought of Draco turning his half-brother to the Dark stayed him, and he reached up to ring the bell with a hand that only shook a little.

"State your name," a low voice intoned.

"Harry Potter." His voice was strong, and he was absurdly proud that it didn't tremble.

After a moment, the gates swung open, and Harry started down the stone path to the front door.

The manor was stately, elegant, beautiful in a dark way, and very, very big. The house itself was large and picturesque, with high towers, wrought iron railings, pointed arches and intricate stonework characteristic of the Gothic style. The grounds were well-kept and expansive, with flowerbeds, fountains and even a hedge maze. The stone path he was following wound past statuary and topiary, and it was all Harry could do not to stand and gape and the fantastical decoration. He felt more out of place than he had in a long time.

The gardens were completely silent, except for the trickle and splash of various waterworks. There were no animal or bird sounds, no voices. Harry was suddenly struck by how lonely it must be for Draco, alone in the huge house with no one but the house elves for company.

He found himself in front of the stairs leading up to the front door. No sooner had he set foot on the bottom step when the door opened, and Malfoy stood smirking down at him. He stopped, and they regarded each other for a moment.

Malfoy had grown in the past few years, Harry decided. He was an inch or two taller than Harry, though slimmer. He was clad in a black robe, clasped loosely over his chest, over a pair of black pants and a steel grey silk shirt, and his white-blonde, shoulder-length hair was pulled back with a black ribbon. He looked elegant as always, and Harry suddenly felt woefully underdressed in his jeans and maroon button-down, a nicely casual outfit Ginny had picked for him.

Malfoy's smirk widened, and he pushed back the door with one hand, a mockingly sweeping gesture inviting Harry in. "Welcome to the Manor, Potter."


	3. Ch 3: Something's Gotta Give

Disclaimer – Still not mine.

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Chapter 3 – Something's Gotta Give

_When an irrisistable force such as you_

_Meets an old immovable object like me_

_You can bet as sure as you live_

_Something's gotta give, something's gotta give, something's gotta give._

_-Johnny Mercer_

Harry finished unpacking his room, settling Hedwig into her cage. The room was part of an expansive guest suite, with a sitting room, bedroom, and bath that Harry had all to himself. The rooms were richly decorated and comfortably furnished, just like the rest of the house.

Draco had been painfully polite, with an underlying sneer Harry knew he would never quite shake. He was rather reminded of how Snape treated him most of the time – like he would like nothing more than to ridicule, humiliate, or embarrass Harry, and only stopped himself for propriety's sake. Nevertheless, Harry had been treated as an honored guest, getting not only these amazing rooms but a little female house-elf named Tibby specifically to serve his needs. Upon questioning, Harry had found out that Tibby was Dobby's cousin, and that the family was absolutely ashamed of their lost relative's behavior. Harry had sent Tibby away to fetch Hedwig, not wanting to hear her berate her cousin any longer.

Harry opened his wardrobe and selected one of his black school robes, somehow feeling that he should dress as a wizard in this wizarding home. Like Draco, he left only the chest clasp closed. Upon regarding his reflection, he switched his jeans for soft khakis, mentally thanking Mrs. Weasley for insisting that he get himself a new wardrobe when he had left the Dursleys for good on his 17th birthday. He felt much better now that he looked somewhat as put-together as Draco seemed to manage effortlessly.

He fingered his pendant again through his shirt, screwed up his courage, and went to meet his host in Narcissa's library.

Harry had been a little surprised when Tibby had told him that Narcissa and Lucius had always had their own suites, on opposite sides of the house. He had never heard of a couple who did not sleep together, but he supposed it made some sort of sense. Lucius would have come home late many nights, and Narcissa would have gotten up early. There had never seemed to be much love lost between the two, in any case. Certainly, once Draco was born, there was never anymore _real_ need for sex – Lucius had his heir. Any other children would have been a nuisance at best and a threat at worst.

Harry found himself wondering just what sort of childhood Draco had had.

He stopped in front of the door to Narcissa's suite, carved with a single flower, its head bent heavily over a stream. A narcissus, Harry guessed, the flower she was named after. He'd learned the Greek mythology in grade school – a man who was so beautiful he fell in love with his reflection in a stream, believing it to be a lovely water sprite, and refused to move until one goddess or another took pity on him and turned him into a little white flower.

Harry opened the door.

Draco was sitting in one of the armchairs in his mother's sitting room, his legs propped up on an ottoman, reading something out of a very thick tome and taking notes. He looked up, taking in Harry's appearance with a small smirk, and Harry felt himself flush. Nothing he ever did was good enough for this stuck-up brat.

Why did he care?

He squared his shoulders and strode into the room, plopping himself into the chair next to Malfoy's as if he belonged there.

"Is that the spell?" he asked. Malfoy nodded, handing him the book, his attention back on his notes.

"It's pretty advanced magic. It combines a potion and a charm to create a sort of 'window' to locate someone and watch them. I guess it was originally used for parents to find their children, but it can also be used to spy."

Harry read through the ingredients for the potion.

"Some of this stuff is pretty rare," he said quietly. Draco snorted.

"There's very little so rare a Malfoy can't get it. I have all the ingredients here already, as well as a mirror to charm. If you want, we can cast it tonight at midnight."

Harry nodded, settling himself firmly into Schoolwork Mode.

"The potion's gotta simmer for a couple hours, Malfoy. So we should start...around ten?"

Draco took the book back and frowned at it, making a couple more notes. "Yeah. That should be about right. You any good at Potions, Potter? I confess I never much paid attention."

Harry shrugged. "I can follow the directions. That's really all you need to do."

Draco gave Harry a withering look over the book. "Potions is an art, Potter. Someone has to _write_ those directions, after all."

Harry cocked his head, determined not to let Malfoy's condescending manner get to him.

"Have you ever created a potion?" he asked. Malfoy's smirk widened into a grin, and he launched into an explanation of his seventh-year project, creating a potion that would allow a lycanthrope complete control over his wolf form. He was using Snape's own research on the Wolfsbane potion and several of the spells and potions he'd found in his parent's libraries, as well as some theories of his own which were very advanced and sounded surprisingly plausible. Harry found himself listening attentively, astonished that Draco could devote himself so wholeheartedly to such a project.

Draco was just finishing his explanation when Tibby and a couple of the other house elves brought them dinner. They ate in silence, Draco frowning at his notes and Harry reading through the full spell. As he had suspected, it was earth magic, complete with bloodletting, ritual movements, and chanting. It was going to be a difficult spell to pull off, but it would allow them to watch Alexander for the duration of the spell, as well as give them an exact location so that Hedwig could find him. They decided to bring the owl down during the casting, so that she could see what he looked like. Once they had a lock on his location, they were going to send him letters, one from each of them, and then wait for him to make his move. If he would have it, they were going to invite him to stay at the Manor until school started again, and all three of them would get to know each other as family.

Harry blanched. Draco Malfoy was one step away from being family. His half-brother's half-brother. Harry wasn't too sure if he liked that idea. Hell, he wasn't yet used to the idea that he _had_ a brother. He'd been alone for so long that the idea that he had family who were _not_ the Dursleys was rather disturbing.

Tibby brought them tea and desert, and Harry regarded Malfoy across the little table he'd set the book upon, lost in thought. After a few moments, Malfoy looked up.

"What, Potter? Do I have crumbs on my nose?" he asked. Harry shook his head, his eyes not leaving Draco's face. To his amusement, Draco squirmed a little, before glaring back. Harry's mouth quirked into a small smile.

"What do you do for entertainment around here?" he asked. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, well." He waved a hand dismissively. "A little this, a little that. Performing Dark rituals, torturing house-elves, engaging in corrupt business deals." He laughed outright at the horror on Harry's face. "I'm kidding, Potter. Just saying out loud what I'm sure was on your mind to prove to you how silly it sounds." He sobered, after that. "There isn't a whole lot, I'm afraid. When I'm home I read or work on my schoolwork. Or I fly. Otherwise, I spend as little time as possible in this old dump."

Harry shook his head slightly, amazed that Draco was so spoiled as to take his beautiful home for granted. He stood and walked around the room, idly looking at the books laid out on the shelves and the tables. He stopped at a table in the back, where a few books and a number of sheets of parchment covered in Draco's precise script were spread. They were notes on the Animagus transformation.

"Thinking about becoming an animal?" he asked. Draco looked up sharply, regarding Harry for a moment.

"Is there something wrong with that?" he asked, his tone bristling. "Unlike some, I'd be legal."

Harry stiffened at the implied slight against his father and godfather, but didn't answer. He looked over Draco's notes, getting an understanding for the first time of how difficult the Animagus spells really were. Just the casting took a week of nightly rituals, and that didn't count the month of potion brewing and prep work that came before.

_If he can do it, I can do it,_ he thought. And just like that, his mind was made up – he was going to become an Animagus, legal or not, before Christmas.


	4. Ch 4: Two Minutes to Midnight

Author's Note: I've decided to keep the short chapter thing going, as it allows me to update more often. That, and the song lyric thing is just too much fun.

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

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Chapter 4 – Two Minutes to Midnight

_The killers breed or the demons seed,  
The glamour, the fortune, the pain,  
Go to war again, blood is freedoms stain,  
But don't you pray for my soul anymore.  
Two minutes to midnight  
The hands that threaten doom_

_-Iron Maiden_

Harry regarded the simmering cauldron with suspicion. Between the two of them, the potion had been made perfectly, but he was still a little apprehensive about casting the spell. If even one thing was off, the entire thing could blow up in their faces.

But Draco didn't seem worried, so Harry was determined not to let his own uneasiness show. He couldn't, after all, let Malfoy get the impression that he was weak or scared.

Draco looked up at the clock.

"Two minutes to midnight. We'd better get started."

Harry nodded, silent, as Malfoy added the final vial of dragonshide oil and took up an ornamental dagger. He laid the blade along the palm of his left hand and closed it, holding both hands above the cauldron. Drawing the blade down, he sliced open his palm and counted as one, two, three drops of blood fell into the brew, which turned from sickly green to deep brown. Quickly he drew his hands away, wiping the dagger on a handkerchief and handing it to Harry, who repeated the actions. After the third drop of his blood hit the surface, the potion changed to a deep crimson. Harry cleaned the dagger again and both men muttered healing spells at their hands. Draco picked up the cauldron, extinguishing the flame with his wand, and a horsehair brush and together they moved to the large, oval mirror on the wall.

The two men took a deep breath and looked at each other, then at the clock. Midnight. Time to go.

Draco dipped the brush in the brew and began chanting the spell, painting the mirror crimson with long, even strokes. He left a brush-width clear between each stroke. When he finished, he handed the brush and cauldron to Harry, who picked up where he had left off without missing a beat – chanting in Latin, his brush strokes filling the spaces between Draco's. As he finished the chant, Draco's voice joined his, and as the last clear spaces were covered in red, their voices spoke the final words as one. There was a flash and then the red seemed to evaporate, leaving behind in the mirror an image which was not a reflection.

It was the living room of a Muggle house. At the door was a man, tall and well-built with shaggy black hair, his back to the mirror. Harry blinked. From the back, the man could have been his father.

"Is that him?" he asked in a whisper. Draco ignored him, his eyes fixed to the mirror.

The man handed something to someone on the other side of the door and accepted a stack of large, flat boxes with the words "Papa John's Pizza" printed in garish red letters along the side. As soon as he turned to face the mirror, both Harry and Draco gasped. The man's left eye socket was covered with a black eyepatch.

He set the boxes on the coffee table and disappeared from the room. A few moments later he was back with several bottles of various soda pops in his hands and a stack of plastic cups under his arm. He set down his burden and went to the foot of the stairs.

"Girls!" he yelled. "Pizza!"

Immediately there was a thunderous noise as about a dozen girls, ranging from twelve or thirteen to nearly twenty, stampeded into the room from upstairs, downstairs, and the halls. They fell on the pizza boxes with wild abandon, laughing and talking and pouring each other glasses of pop. The man rolled his good eye.

"You're welcome," he said, his tone amused. Immediately there was a chorus of "Thank you, Xander" from the girls.

"Xander." Draco said softly. "That has to be him. Look, he has my mother's mouth and nose."

"I wonder what happened to his eye?" Harry said. Draco didn't answer, apparently enthralled with watching their brother interact with this gaggle of Muggle girls. For Muggles they certainly were; no sign of anything magical was anywhere in sight.

Harry tore his eyes away long enough to let Hedwig out of her cage. Settling her on his arm, he brought her over to the mirror.

"That's Xander, Hedwig," he said quietly. "Could you find him if we had letters for you to carry?"

The snowy owl hooted softly, bobbing her head in an owly approximation of a nod. She turned her head towards his and began grooming the hair behind his ear with her beak, obviously done watching. Harry smiled at her and let her position herself on his shoulder, reaching up to smooth the feathers on her underside as he turned his attention back to the mirror. Draco had summoned the ottomans over, and the two of them settled down to watch and learn about their brother.


	5. Ch 5: Iris

Disclaimer: _Still_ not mine.

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Chapter 5 – Iris

_And I don't want the world to see me  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am_

_-Goo Goo Dolls_

Xander Harris smiled as he watched the mini-Slayers eat. Today was the last day it would be just him, Andrew and the Minis. Today the rest of the Scoobies – even Giles – were coming home. He couldn't wait.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long. Just as the Minis were finishing their pizza, the doorbell rang. Xander jumped up before any of the girls could beat him to it and opened the front door. He was immediately attacked by a squealing mass of Dawn.

"Xander, ooooohmigod, it's so good to see you!"

Xander laughed and hugged Dawn right back, before pulling away and holding her at arm's length. He looked her up and down.

"Look at you! All grown up." he said with a smile. The brunette was taller than almost all of the mini-Slayers, and more than a head taller than her sister, who was waiting patiently for her old friend to notice her.

Xander let go of Dawn and swung Buffy up into his arms, spinning her in a circle in the entranceway. She laughed as he set her down, embracing him tightly.

"Missed you, Xan," she said. Slinging an arm around Dawn's shoulder, she moved towards the living room, where the shrieking of many teenaged girls filled the air. Xander grinned and went to help Andrew unload their stuff from his trunk. Andrew would be leaving again right away to get back to the airport in time to pick up Giles and Willow, who were coming in from England, and Faith and Robin, who were arriving from South America at the same time.

He got the last of the stuff into the house as the Minis were cleaning up their mess. Buffy and Dawn were sitting and eating the remains of the pizza, and the girls were debating patrols for the night. After a few loud arguments, they divvied up their weapons and hit the streets, leaving Xander alone with the Summers girls.

He plopped down on the couch. "So. How was Italy?"

Dawn immediately launched into stories, ranging from her and Buffy's various romantic interludes to the demonic rituals they'd thwarted. She was still talking forty-five minutes later, when Andrew barged into the house with his four wayward Scoobies in tow.

More excited shrieks and long-awaited hugs resulted. When they finally settled down enough to really look at each other, Giles frowned at Willow.

"What is it, my dear?" he asked softly. Immediately there was silence, and everyone looked at Willow. She was pale, paler than usual, and regarding the walls and ceiling with a suspicious look on her face.

"We're being watched."

The Scoobies exchanged glances. Buffy was the first to speak.

"Who's watching us and can I kick their ass?"

Her comment was met by stifled giggles and tight smiles all around. Willow cocked her head, reaching out with her magic. Her eyes started to flicker between pure white and her normal green.

Dawn leaned away, a rather frightened look on her face, before Giles stayed her with a hand on her arm. "It's all right, Dawn. She's got it under control now." Dawn nodded and held her position, but still watched Willow warily. Willow, for her part, closed her eyes, so no one would have to see the colorplay. She didn't need them for this anyway.

"It's definitely a spell. Whoever is watching isn't here right now. It's tied to a single person here...by blood." She frowned. "Anyone donate blood recently?"

Everyone shook their heads, wracking their minds for a way that someone might have gotten their blood recently. Faith made a face.

"The number of times I've bled on someone..."

Buffy snorted indelicately. "That goes for most of us here, Faith. Our blood is pretty easy to come by."

Willow shook her head, diving deeper into her magic. Her hair started to grow white streaks as she felt around the spell.

"It's a vision spell, anchored there." She pointed up into one of the corners of the room. "Like a magical security camera. It's been there for a while, at least a couple hours."

"Which means it had to have been centered on me." Xander said, his voice low and serious. "I was the only one in this room a couple hours ago."

"It could have been me." Andrew said, his voice a little shaky. "Depending on how accurate Willow's time estimate is. I left to pick up Buffy and Dawn about two and a half hours ago."

"I don't care who it was centered on, I don't like it." Buffy said tightly. "Dammit, we just got home! Wils, can you work some mojo on it?"

Willow's grin was only slightly feral. "No problem." Her hair flashed black, then white, then back to red. She opened her eyes, green again, breathing hard. "Done. It's gone."

There was silence for a moment. Giles pulled off his glasses and started cleaning them, as he tended to do when he was thinking.

"I suppose we should start looking into this?"

"Oh, can we please not?" Buffy asked. "I don't care if someone was watching us eat pizza and discuss our globetrotting. I don't think it's an apocalypse, and I am not about to give up my first night at home for anything less."

There were murmurs of assent from all over the room. Giles sighed and replaced his glasses, pushing them up onto the bridge of his nose with a finger.

"Very well. We won't worry about it until morning."

Slowly, normal conversation resumed, though Xander was curiously quiet. Somehow, he had the feeling that the spell had been meant to watch _him_. He couldn't explain how, or why, but the feeling was strong enough to give him the wiggins for the rest of the night.


	6. Ch 6: Breaking the Habit

Author's note: Thanks again to Kate for helping me figure out where this chapter is going. For someone who's never read Potter and never seen Buffy she sure has some great ideas.

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

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Chapter 6 – Breaking the Habit

_I don't know what's worth fighting for  
Or why I have to scream  
I don't know why I instigate  
And say what I don't mean  
I don't know how I got this way  
I know it's not alright  
So I'm breaking the habit  
Tonight_

_-Linkin Park_

Harry was staring at the ceiling.

Not of his own volition, of course. He'd been knocked back by the massive surge of magical energy that had blown them both off their ottomans, shattering the mirror into tiny slivers of glass that had flown over his head and embedded themselves into the spines of the books behind him.

"Merlin's beard." Draco said from beside him as he raised himself up onto his forearms. "That little witch packs quite a punch."

Harry snorted. "No kidding. How do you suppose she knew we were there?"

Draco glared balefully at the mirror. "_Reparo._" Harry ducked as the pieces of glass flew over his head and back to their original places, throwing Malfoy a dirty look. "She shouldn't have been able to tell. It was probably because of your mother's muddy blood." he muttered. "Dirtying up the spell." Harry socked him in the jaw, his eyes glittering.

"Right. I'm sure it had nothing to do with your father's damned blood, nothing at all. Don't talk about my mother that way." His voice was low and dangerous.

Draco sneered at Harry and didn't answer, instead finding his way back onto his feet. Harry pulled himself up as well, surprised that Malfoy hadn't risen to the bait.

"Well," Malfoy said after a moment, "there's no point in contacting him, then. He's a Muggle. A Squib, by the looks of it."

Harry's jaw dropped. "That's it? You're just going to leave him, never think of him again, because he was raised Muggle?"

"Yep, Potter, that's about the size of it. We'd just have to Obliviate him if we met him – can't have Muggles running around knowing our secrets."

"Oh, for – You idiot! Didn't you hear what they were saying? That Willow girl, she's obviously a witch. Or did you miss the huge burst of white light that shattered the mirror?"

Draco glared at him. "Spare me, Potter. She's not a witch, she's a Wicca."

Harry blinked. "A what?"

"A Wicca." Draco rolled his eyes expressively. "Earth magic can be practiced by anyone – you don't need to have magical aptitude to use it. All you need is inner power and an open mind. My mother practiced Wicca when she thought Father wasn't looking. It's not a gift, it's a religion."

"Oh." Harry considered this. "Well, from what they were saying, it seems like they deal with demons and other such Dark creatures on a regular basis. In any case, Xander certainly isn't a normal Muggle. And I think we owe it to him to let him know about us. Both of us."

Draco pursed his lips, muttering repairing charms at the ripped spines of the books. Truth be told, he was a little pissed that Xander seemed to take after the Potter side so completely. He didn't see any of his mother in the man, except for his facial features and height.

What if Xander came here and found that he wanted nothing to do with one of his brothers? Draco didn't think he'd ever forgive himself if he managed to gain Potter a brother without getting one of his own. The fact that Harry didn't seem to consider that fact somehow made the thought worse.

Draco moved the ottomans back into place with his wand, a bit more viciously than he had intended, muttering direly to himself. Harry studied him for a moment.

"How long have you been up?" he asked quietly. Draco looked up at him, puzzled.

"What? Oh. Um...since yesterday some time. I was up researching the spell last night."

Harry heaved an infuriatingly long-suffering sigh and shook his head. "Go to bed, Malfoy. We'll write the letters and send them tomorrow."

Draco shook his head. "I wouldn't be able to sleep. Not without writing the letter first." He noted somewhere in the back of his mind that Harry had managed to maneuver him into agreeing to contact Xander. Annoying bastard.

"You can't write the letter now. You're in a pissy mood and haven't slept. You wouldn't want to make a bad impression, would you?" Potter asked, his face carefully schooled to blankness. Draco grudgingly conceded the point, thinking he _must_ be tired if Pottyface was getting the best of him so easily.

"Goodnight, Malfoy." Harry said, letting his smirk show through. Malfoy made a rude gesture at the door as it closed behind him.


	7. Ch 7: The Reason

Author's note: So Kate and I are stumped. Assuming a wizard's Animagus form is determined by his personality, what forms do you think Draco and Harry would take?

Disclaimer: SO not mine.

* * *

Chapter 7 – The Reason

_I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
And the reason is you_

_-Hoobastank_

Harry awoke just after dawn, just as he always had at the Dursley's and the Burrow. He suffered a short moment of disorientation before remembering that he was, of all places, in Malfoy Manor. Sunlight was streaming in through his east-facing windows, making the room seem considerably less foreboding than it was the night before. He sat up and stretched, feeling absurdly good. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt – he no longer cared if Malfoy thought he looked too Muggle-y – he padded down the hall to Narcissa's library.

The remains of the spell were still there from the night before. Harry Accio'd a flask from the potions kit in his room and bottled the remaining blood-potion, remembering that this particular brew could be reheated and reused. Now that he was going to contact his brother for sure, it might come in handy. He labeled the bottle "Xander" and pocketed it.

There, on the back table, the books on Animagi taunted him. After a moment's thought, Harry Accio'd a roll of parchment and the note-copying quill he'd convinced Hermione to enchant for him last year. He dipped the quill in ink and set it on the parchment, then began running his fingers over the appropriate passages in the nearest book. The quill stood up and copied them on its own, as fast as he could cover the words.

After a half hour, Harry was convinced he had all the information he needed. He considered copying Draco's notes as well, before deciding against it; he didn't need help from that git.

Harry returned to his rooms and put away the potion and the scroll. He was debating what to do next when Tibby popped into his room and answered the question for him.

"Master Draco requests that Mr. Potter join him for breakfast in the gazebo."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Well, _that_ sounded snobbish.

"Tell him I'll be right down."

He locked his trunk securely before leaving his room, not trusting anything in the house.

The gazebo was behind the house, in the center of the hedge maze. The maze itself was bisected in both directions by a wide, paved pathway, and the gazebo sat at the juncture. Draco was sitting regally in a wicker chair, sipping tea and skimming over the _Daily Prophet_.

"Anything interesting?" Harry asked brightly as he sat down, folded his legs under him and dug into the tray of goodies Tibby set on the table next to him. Draco regarded him coolly over his paper.

"You're in a particularly cheery mood this morning."

Harry grinned, knowing his bright demeanor was more annoying to the dignified man than any amount of surliness could accomplish. "I'm going to contact my brother today."

"As am I, but you don't see me skipping around with sunshine and daisies emitting from my arse."

Harry actually chuckled at that. "You sound like Snape, y'know. 'Mr. Potter,' " he said in his best snotty Snape voice, " 'would you _please_ refrain from inflicting your sickening cheerfulness on all and sundry?' " Harry was rewarded by a quirk of Draco's mouth as the blond man returned his gaze to his paper.

"I'm not surprised. I have been seeing a lot of him lately – he is my godfather, after all. His sarcasm is rather catching."

Harry almost spit out his tea. "Snape's your _godfather_? I'm so sorry."

Draco lowered the paper again to fix him with a steel-eyed glare. "He's family, Potter, and you'd do well to keep your sorrows to yourself."

Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste. "You'd actually claim that greasy git as family?"

Draco flushed angrily, dropping the paper entirely and reaching for his wand before noticing the smirk on Harry's lips. He stopped, letting out a little growl of frustration.

"I can't decide what's funnier, watching you blow up or watching you try not to." Harry said with a grin. "Malfoy-baiting's going to be my new favorite pastime."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Wanker."

"Just returning the favor, Malfoy." Harry said softly. Draco, interestingly, flushed and dropped his gaze.

"Grow up, Potter, we've got a letter to write," he snarled, summoning a parchment, quill, and two pots of ink – one green and one red. He snapped his fingers and a house-elf cleared away his half-finished tray. Rolling out the parchment, Draco stopped with his quill an inch away from the green ink bottle.

"I'm going to explain the circumstances to him and introduce myself. Then, you will take the red ink and write what you wish. Is that satisfactory?" he asked, a bit of a snarl still in his words. Harry calmly inclined his head, indicating his acquiescence in a very Dumbledore-like manner. Draco, not sure whether Harry was still poking fun at him, regarded him with a narrow-eyed gaze for a moment before dipping the quill in the emerald ink and beginning to write. Harry watched the ink flow in precise strokes as he continued to eat, noting absently that Draco stuck his tongue between his teeth when he was writing. Somehow that little action made the cold man seem a little more human.

Draco signed his name and blew on the ink to dry it before passing the parchment, ink pot and quill across the table to Harry. Harry skimmed Draco's writing, making sure the other man hadn't missed anything important, before setting quill to parchment himself.

He explained that his father had never known that he'd had another son, and that his parents were both dead. He briefly glossed over his time with the Dursleys, not wanting to subject his brother to the gruesome details, but making it clear that he had always wanted a real family but never had the chance. Finally he talked about his time at Hogwarts, leaving out most anything about Voldemort. He wanted his brother to know him as Harry first, and as the Boy Who Lived later.

He closed by relating Malfoy's suggestion that Xander come to visit at the Malfoy Manor for a few weeks, hinting that the big place needed a few more people to not seem so lonely. As an afterthought, he mentioned that he could probably bring one or two of his friends, if he would feel more comfortable that way. After the words were out it occurred to him to ask Malfoy about that, which he did; fortunately Draco had no objections. He wrote that his owl, Hedwig, would wait until Xander had written his reply, and bring it back to them. Finally, he wished Xander well, and signed the parchment 'Your brother, Harry'.

He handed the parchment to Draco, who skimmed it quickly before folding it and sealing with the dragon signet ring on his left middle finger. He turned the parchment over and stopped.

"We don't know his surname, do we?" Draco asked. Harry shook his head.

"They never said it. It shouldn't matter, Hedwig knows where she's going."

Draco nodded absently and dipped the quill in his emerald ink, addressing the letter to "Xander" in large, ornate calligraphy. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Very nice, Malfoy." He snapped his fingers, and to his delight (and surprise) Tibby appeared at his elbow.

"Could you bring me Hedwig, Tibby?" he asked politely. The little elf bowed and disappeared, returning a moment later with the large owl cradled in her small arms. Harry thanked her and lifted Hedwig onto the table, where she obediently stuck out her foot. Harry conjured a black silk ribbon and threaded it through a miniscule hole in the parchment's corner, tying it neatly to her leg. He stroked her head.

"Now, you're sure you know where he is?"

Hedwig hooted and nipped gently at his fingers. He grinned as she took off.

He met Draco's eyes.

"Now what?"

Draco raised his eyes to the sky, as if asking for patience. "Now we wait."

They were silent for a moment.

"Hey, Malfoy." Draco looked back at him. "Wanna fly?"


	8. Ch 8: Pinch Me

Author's Note: What is it all you people have against slash! I like writing slash, and I happen to consider myself rather good at it! --humph, flounce, pout--

That being said, this story will NOT be slash. At least, not Draco/Harry slash. Nor was it ever going to be – I would have put a warning in the summery. While Draco/Harry can be very, very good when it's well done, it requires a different sort of conflict than what I have in this story. Yes, they're slowly learning to tolerate, and possibly even like each other, but it's going to be more of a sibling sort of like than a sexual sort of like. (Willow, however, is still lesbian, at least for the time being. So there may be some femslash in here somewhere.)

There. Now you can all stop writing reviews about how horrible it would be _if_.

And keep those Animagus suggestions coming – most of them are things I've considered already, but I still can't decide. (Fortunately, I've got quite a few chapters before I have to.)

I believe this chapter should answer a lot of your questions, my dear reviewers. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own it yet.

* * *

Chapter 8 – Pinch Me

_Pinch me, pinch me,_  
'_Cause I'm still asleep  
Please God tell me  
That I'm still asleep_

_-Barenaked Ladies_

"Giles! GILES!"

Xander, Giles and Willow looked up from where they were eating lunch and researching into magical means of spying. One of the baby-Slayers stuck her head in the doorway.

"Giles, there's a bird pecking at the window," she said. "It won't go away!"

The three shared a look that said "Oh goddess, what now?" and as one they got up and moved to the living room.

True to the Slayer's word, there was a large white owl sitting on their windowsill, glaring at them with surprisingly intelligent golden eyes.

Willow raised her eyebrows. "That's a snowy owl. They're not native to Cleveland, and it's the middle of the day."

Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut as if the bird would just go away if he didn't look. "Does it, by chance, have anything tied to its leg?"

Xander moved closer to the window. "Yeah, actually. Looks like a letter."

Giles gave a resigned sigh and replaced his glasses. "Bloody hell. It's probably for me."

Xander hadn't moved. "Uh, actually, G-man, it's addressed to me."

The older man gave him a sharp look at that. "What? You're sure?"

Xander rolled his eyes. "It says 'Xander' on it in big freakin' green letters, so yeah, I'd guess so."

Giles was at his side in a second. "Well, don't just stand there, let her in!"

Xander gave him a 'when did YOU go wacko' look but opened the window anyway. The owl hopped inside, flapping its – her – wings for balance. She looked Xander straight in the eye and stuck out her leg out. Xander looked at Giles, who waved him on. He gingerly reached down and untied the black ribbon, pulling the letter away from the bird.

Giles held out his arm, and the owl obediently hopped on. He smiled a little, stroking her head, and turned around.

"Jen?"

The mini-Slayer who had alerted them in the first place was standing a little ways back. "Yeah?"

"Would you please take this bird to the kitchen and get her some water, and a little bread? She's had a long journey."

Jen wrinkled her nose. "She won't bite me?"

"No, she's very tame, I assure you." Giles really had no way of knowing, but he wanted the girl out of the room when Xander opened his letter. Jen nodded – all of the minis trusted his word – and held out her arm, smiling in wonder when the beautiful animal transferred itself to her without hesitation, hooting softly at her. She headed for the kitchen, cooing nonsense at her.

Xander was seated on the couch, staring at the letter in his hands as if it was going to turn into a big fat demon and cause an apocalypse. Willow was next to him, peering over his shoulder curiously. Giles let out a heavy breath and plunked down into an armchair.

"Go on and read it, Xander." He settled his elbows on his knees, staring down at his folded hands, obviously thinking.

The man nodded and pried open the seal, unfolding about a foot and a half of parchment, covered in neat writing from top to bottom. He settled back and started to read, Willow still looking over his shoulder.

They both gasped at the same time. Giles looked up, studying the man and women who had become as children to him. Willow's hand was covering her mouth, and Xander's hands were trembling a little. Both had wide eyes as they drank in the words. After a few more moments, Willow closed her mouth and slipped her arm around her oldest friend, squeezing his shoulders. Giles frowned, wondering just what was in that letter.

He didn't have too long to wait. Five minutes later, Xander let the letter drop into his lap, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Well. At least we know who was watching us last night."

Willow let out a short, harsh laugh, throwing her arms around him. He leaned his head onto hers, lost in thought. Giles threw them a concerned look.

"Was it as bad as all that?" he asked quietly. Xander shrugged his shoulders, taking a deep breath.

"Um, well. It would seem that I was adopted."

Giles groaned, putting two and two together and guessing where this was going. His head fell into his hands. "Oh, Lord."

Xander's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Yeah. Apparently my birth parents were a witch and a wizard who had a fling and couldn't deal with the consequences. The letter is from their sons, my half-brothers."

"Did they happen to say who your parents were?" Giles asked. Willow picked up the letter and found the names.

"James Potter and Narcissa Black."

Giles' eyes widened in shock. "You're kidding."

Willow gave him a strange look. "Um, no, I'm not. And how come you seem to know so much about it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ahem. I went to school with them."

"You – " Xander cut himself off, staring at him. He narrowed his eyes. "You're a wizard."

Giles started furiously cleaning his glasses. "I _was_ a wizard."

"You mean," Willow said, "that you went to this wizarding school they talked about? That you've had _formal training_ in magic? And you never told me?"

"Willow," Giles sighed, putting his glasses back on again, "I said I _was_ a wizard. I was expelled in my senior year for playing with Dark magic. Ethan and I both were. They broke our wands and forbade us from ever using magic again. It made my father very happy, because it gave me no excuse not to become a Watcher." He sat back in his chair, regarding the two of them, his fingers steepled. "If your parents are Potter and Black, Xander, you're a pureblood Wizard. Assuming you have magic at all."

"But I don't, do I?" Xander asked. "Wouldn't I have noticed?"

Giles shook his head. "Not necessarily. Unlike Willow's brand of magic, yours would have been a part of you since you were born. You wouldn't have noticed the power, because it would have always been there. Now, in most wizards, including myself, when the wizard is young, the magic in them builds up in pressure over time, and is released in a sort of magical explosion when triggered by an intense emotion. However," he continued, "you were raised on the Hellmouth, which has been known to, to _suck_ those magical outbursts away before they can cause a physical disruption. And even if one or two of them did get through, well, so many strange things happened in Sunnydale that you probably never noticed the connection."

"The fire trucks." Xander muttered. Giles cocked his head, questioning. "Uh, when I was little, I really really wanted a toy fire truck for my birthday. When I didn't get it, I got really mad and threw a tantrum." His head fell into his hand. "My neighbor's house set on fire, and I got to see real fire trucks. I always thought Willow had done it. But it could have been me, right?" He closed his eyes. "I set someone's home on fire."

"You couldn't have known, Xander." Willow said comfortingly.

"You still don't know." Giles reminded him. "We'd need a wand to test for sure if you had any magic. Though, considering your parents, I find it very unlikely that you don't." He let out a little huff of amazement. "James and Narcissa. No one would have ever guessed." At the other's questioning looks, Giles expounded. "James was two years behind me and Narcissa was three. When I left, Narcissa was set to go into an arranged marriage with Lucius Malfoy, who was in my year, and James was all but engaged to a girl in his year named Lilly Evans. The two of them wouldn't have given each other the time of day, let alone _canoodle_. They were in rival Houses." _And on opposite sides of the War,_ Giles thought.

"Houses?" Willow asked. Giles coughed.

"It's a British thing. The school was divided into four Houses, with the students being Sorted there by personality. The students of each house lived together, went to class together, ate together, and competed as a team against the other three. James was in Gryffindor for his courage, and Narcissa was in Slytherin for her ambition."

"And you?"

Giles smiled. "I was in Ravenclaw, for being a geek."

Willow giggled at that, and even Xander chuckled a little. When the laughter died down, Giles looked to Xander.

"What are you going to do?" he asked softly. The one-eyed man sighed, falling back against the couch cushions.

"I don't know. Harry and Draco want me to come to Draco's home to meet them."

Giles frowned. "Draco's home? Doesn't he live with his parents?"

Xander sighed. "Apparently they're both dead. Harry's parents, too. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and James and Lily Potter. Just like you said."

"Oh, Xander. I'm sorry." Giles looked very upset with himself. But Xander just shook his head.

"It's alright, G-man. It's not like I knew them." He considered the letter for a moment.

"Would you guys come with me?" he asked quietly. "They said I could bring guests and I'd feel better if you were with me. Buffy and Faith can stay here and watch the Minis."

"We'd love to, Xan." Willow said, throwing Giles a look that brooked no argument. "After all, you're my Xander-shaped friend. We stick together."

Giles cleared his throat. "Ahem. I'll have to send a letter, first. Make sure that I won't be arrested for showing my face on Wizarding property." He strode over to a bookshelf and pulled out an empty notebook. Ripping a page out, he tossed the notebook to Xander and grabbed a pen. "Write your reply. I take it the owl will take the letters back?"

"Her name is Hedwig." Willow said with a grin. "She's Harry's."

"Good, good." Giles thought for a moment, then started writing furiously. Xander sighed and did the same, with Willow kibitzing at his side. When the letters were done, they folded them and put them in envelopes. Willow ran upstairs and got a pair of thin ribbons and a hole punch, and they tied Xander's letter to Hedwig's foot.

Xander and Willow left to tell Buffy what was going on. Giles took Hedwig outside.

"Do you know who this is?" he asked, holding up his letter for her to read the name. She hooted and bobbed her head, an interesting trick for an owl.

"Good. Take it to him first, before you deliver the other." He tied the letter to her other foot, and stroked her head. "Thank you, Hedwig."

The owl butted her head against his hand and took off.


	9. Ch 9: From Me to You

Author's Note: This one was fun!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

Chapter 9 – From Me to You

_If there's anything that you want,  
If there's anything I can do,  
Just call on me,  
And I'll send it along  
With love, from me to you_

_- The Beatles_

Arthur,

This is Rupert Giles. I don't know if you remember me from school, but I have a favor to ask of you.

I have been out of touch with the Wizarding world since my expulsion, and had intended on remaining as such for the remainder of my life. However, it has come to my attention that one of the young men I have befriended in the last few years is in fact the son of James Potter and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, and that one Harry Potter and one Draco Malfoy have requested his presence at the Malfoy home, so that they may meet their half-brother.

As you can well imagine, Xander, my friend, is quite apprehensive about the meeting. He has requested that I, along with another mutual friend, accompany him to meet his long-lost family. I would very much like to be there for him, but suspect that if I was recognized I would be forcibly ejected. Would it be possible for you to look into getting me a temporary pardon for this purpose, or to direct me to the correct authority to contact?

Xander has had a rough life, and I have come to regard him as a son. This means a great deal, to both of us. Anything you could do to help would be much appreciated, and I would be in your debt.

Thank you,

Rupert

xxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxx

Well. That was a shock, to say the least.

I've been an only child all my life. I've always wished that I had a different family, a little brother or sister maybe. You two just made all that true.

Um, since you both told me about yourselves, I guess I should tell you about me.

My name is Alexander LaVelle Harris. I grew up in Sunnydale, California. My parents – well, adoptive parents, I guess – are Tony and Jessica Harris. I won't lie, I didn't have the best home life. My dad was a drunk who hit my mother a lot and me on occasion; I spent a lot of time as a kid staying out of his way. My best friend Jesse was murdered in my sophomore year of high school. I lost my left eye to a crazy priest just a couple years ago.

But it hasn't been all bad. I have a surrogate dad in Rupert Giles, whom I'm sure you saw in your little magic-spying-thing. I also had an adopted mother in Joyce Summers, but she died a few years back. I have my girls, Willow Rosenburg and Buffy and Dawn Summers, who are my best friends and practically my sisters. I have a lot of really good friends. And for the last few months I've been playing den mother to a bunch of hyper teenage girls here in Cleveland, Ohio. (Don't ask.)

I work in construction and carpentry, and I've slowly been building myself a pretty successful career here. Before that, I did just about anything someone would pay me for, including dishwashing, bartending, delivery, food service, and (ahem) stripping. (That was only once, I swear.)

Um, what else? I like cheese, Snoopy, the color red and the loudest, most tacky Hawaiian shirts I can find. I have an illogical fear of clowns. I was engaged but I got cold feet and left her at the altar. As a matter of fact, I have pretty bad luck with women in general.

And I'm out of ideas. You have to understand, this is still sorta alien to me.

I'd love to come to England and meet you two. Giles and Willow would like to come as well, if that's alright.

Oh. And Giles thinks that I'm a wizard. Apparently he knew my parents. Er, your parents. He thinks it's possible that I've had magical ability all this time and never noticed. You'll have to ask him about that. When we come to visit. And I'm babbling, so I'll stop now.

Well, let me know when and where you want us to meet you. I can't wait.

Your big bro,

Xander

xxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxx

Ripper,

Of course I remember you, you bloody pillock. How could I forget? Filch still gives me dirty looks whenever I pass, you know. We got into an awful lot of trouble, didn't we? Those were the days.

I never did believe you were guilty of working Dark rituals, consorting with demons, et al.; but those were dangerous times and by the time I found out you, Rayne and that whole group had been expelled, you were already long gone.

It's really a ruddy great coincidence that you happen to know Xander. Harry's been a good friend of my youngest boy's since they started at Hogwarts six years ago, and he was here when he received Malfoy's letter about Xander. He's a good kid, been like a son to me. He's been involved in some pretty heavy goings-on, though. He may not have told your boy, but James and Lily were killed by You-Know-Who when he was but a babe; there's a whole big mish-mosh that resulted that I won't get into now.

I can't vouch for Malfoy's personality, though. As a matter of fact, he's been a right little bastard to my sons and Harry for years, but he has recently dealt with the death of his mother and the imprisonment of his father (Dear Lucius was a Death Eater, what a shock!) and may have grown up somewhat.

I'm working for the Ministry now, and I may be able to pull a few strings and get you pardoned, temporarily if not permanently. If you haven't done any magic in the past twenty years, it should be fairly easy. I'm sure the Ministy's been keeping tabs on you.

Molly sends her best (you remember Molly Prewett, don't you? Well, she's Molly Weasley now!) and tells me to invite you and your friends for tea or else; we have a lot to catch up on.

Art

xxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxx

Albus,

Rupert Giles has requested that he be reinstated to the magical community. Apparently he is close to James and Narcissa's son, and wants to accompany the boy to visit Draco and Harry. I'd like him to be there, if only as a little extra protection against whatever dangers the Malfoy Manor poses, but as you know he was accused of summoning the demon Eyghon and exiled from the Wizarding community. I don't believe he is guilty, but even if he is, I'm sure he's kept to his no-magic vow for the past two decades.

I'll be writing to Fudge as well, but a little pressure from your side couldn't hurt.

He's a good man, Albus, and he deserves another chance.

Arthur

xxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxx

_Arthur – _

_I believe your assessment of the situation is correct. I will do what I can._

_Give Molly my regards._

_Dumbledore_

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Art,

I don't know who's arm you twisted, but it worked. I just received word that I have been granted a full pardon on the basis of good behavior, and I am invited to rejoin the Wizarding community and purchase a new wand. I have a feeling I'll be watched, but it's certainly better than being exiled from all my childhood friends.

I'll let you know when I'm coming as soon as we hear back from the boys.

Ripper

PS – Congratulations! You _finally_ got the girl.

xxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxx

Xander,

Enclosed is a Portkey that will bring you to Malfoy Manor on Friday. It activates at 5:00 in the afternoon our time, so make sure all three of you are touching it and anything you want to bring at 11:00 in the morning your time. I'm sure Giles knows how it works.

Can't wait to see you.

Your little brother,

Harry


	10. Ch 10: Point of No Return

Author's note: So I really like the Willow/Snape pairing, and have been considering putting it in here. I might regret asking this, but what do you guys think?

Disclaimer: Um, no, still not mine.

* * *

Chapter 10 – Point of No Return

_Your father, he said he needs you  
Your mother, she said she loves you  
Your brothers, they echo your words:_  
"_How far to the point of no return?"_

_-Kansas_

They were driving him nuts.

It was only fifteen minutes before the Portkey, a brightly-colored stuffed snake (which he had found rather in bad taste, considering) activated, and Xander and Willow were running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

Well, mostly Willow. Xander was running around trying to get Willow to calm down.

"Xander, I'm nervous! Why aren't you nervous? We're going to meet your brothers! You should be nervous!"

Xander rolled his eye. "Thanks for reminding me, Wills."

"Oh!" She covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry, I just – "

"Willow!" Xander put his hands firmly on her shoulders, stopping her from her pacing. "Being nervous is not going to help. We're leaving in like ten minutes – do you have everything?"

"Clothes, toiletries, magic stuff, money. Do I need anything else?"

"You better not leave without getting a hug, missy!" Buffy said as she and Dawn entered the room. Dawn immediately threw her arms around Willow, and Xander threw Buffy a grateful look, before giving her a big hug as well.

"Have fun, Xan. And you'd better call. Or Owl. Or whatever you wizard-types do."

"I will. Say goodbye to everyone else for me." The mini-Slayers, who hadn't been told Xander's big news, were outside working through drills under the watchful eyes of Faith, Robin and Andrew. Giles hadn't wanted to risk one coming in at the wrong time and seeing them disappear. Gossip ran rampant in the house, even when there wasn't anything to talk about.

Buffy gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze and moved to say goodbye to Willow and Giles. Dawn took her place.

"Bring me back a souvenir!" she said into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. "And be good."

"I'll be good if you will," he said with a wink, and she giggled. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"Willow, Xander," Giles said as he and Buffy separated. "Thirty seconds."

There was a flurry of action as everyone situated themselves. Buffy took Dawn to the other side of the room, not knowing if there was going to be fireworks. Willow and Xander swung backpacks onto their shoulders and Giles picked up his suitcase, holding out the stuffed snake in his other hand. Willow and Xander stood beside him, each taking hold of one end of the stuffie, and then they all stopped.

"Ten seconds." Giles said.

None said it aloud, but they all counted silently under their breath, and right on cue the three travelers disappeared with a pop.

xxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxx

Harry straightened his robes, shooting a glare at Draco, who was leaning casually against the banister of the stairs, looking perfectly put-together as usual in a deep green robe with silver dragon embroidery at the collar. He didn't know how he'd let Malfoy convince him to dress as a wizard for meeting their Muggle-raised brother, in his house colors no less, but he was _thisclose_ to just getting rid of his deep red robe and making do with the clothes he had on under them. What stopped him was that his clothes were a bit shabby, and he didn't want to give a bad impression.

And that was such a Malfoy-like thought that Harry would have gone to change that moment if he hadn't looked at the clock. They'd be there any second.

He settled himself against a wall, adopting a casual pose as Malfoy did, and grimacing at himself for falling into Malfoy's superficial habits. He was a bad influence, he really was.

Right on schedule, the air split with a crack and three figures appeared in the center of the foyer, each holding onto that ridiculous, purple-and-orange stuffed snake that Malfoy had conjured up for a Portkey.

"Wicked!" the girl said, staring at the snake with something like awe on her face. Then she looked up and blushed into the awkward silence that followed.

Harry couldn't keep a wide smile off his face as he studied Xander up close. The man was a little taller than he and a little shorter than Malfoy, with the Potter hair and build and the Black facial features. The slow grin that spread across his face was pure Sirius. Glancing to the side, he saw that Malfoy was smiling as well, an expression Harry had only ever seen on his face a handful of times before. He looked considerably less slimy when he did that, which Harry supposed was a good thing when meeting one's brother for the first time.

The older gentleman took in the looks on the three boys' faces with a glance, then cleared his throat.

"Well. It's obvious whose sons you two are."

Harry laughed outright at that, and the tension was broken. Xander set down his bag and strode over to Harry, who met him halfway. Harry stuck out his hand to shake, but Xander only grabbed it and pulled him into a manly one-armed hug.

"Nice to meet you, Harry." he said with a grin. Then he was gone and Harry was treated to the sight of a very confused Malfoy being given the same treatment. Harry doubted Draco had been hugged very often in the past, and certainly not by a man he'd just met, family or no.

Xander pulled away and stepped back, indicating the older man and the woman with a sweep of his hand. "This is Giles and Willow. And I'm Xander."

"We didn't figure that out, you git." Draco said with his usual sarcasm, but Harry noticed that there was no malice. He grinned to himself. It seemed that Xander was already starting to get under Malfoy's skin, with just a hug and an infectious smile. _Maybe he'll learn to care about someone besides himself for a change_.

Harry shook Willow and Giles' hands. "Harry Potter," he said by way of introduction. Giles shook his head in amazement.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look just like your father? Except for –"

"– my eyes." Harry finished for him. "They're my mother's. Yes, actually, I get that all the time."

"It really gets rather old." Malfoy said as he took Willow's hand and bent over it. "A pleasure, Willow." He dropped a debonair kiss on her knuckles, and Willow giggled. Xander rolled his eye.

"Don't get any ideas, Draco. She's gay these days."

Draco frowned, obviously not picking up on the Muggle-ism.

"She fancies girls, Malfoy." Harry translated. Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, what a shame! You deprive the male of the species of a treasure, Milady," he said with a dramatic sigh. Harry hit him in the shoulder.

"Quit the theatrics, Malfoy, you've got a dinner to host."

Willow cocked her head. "Dinner? Oh, right, we're six hours ahead now." She wrinkled her nose. "That's gonna cause some major jet-lag."

"I'm sure it won't be as bad as all that." Giles said. "I am a bit peckish, though."

"Then by all means," Draco said, "let's eat." He indicated the dining room with a sweep of his hand, and they all followed him.


	11. Ch 11: Getting to Know You

Author's note: Whee, plot exposition! Um, haven't decided on the Willow/Snape thing yet, although I will point out that in this story they are seventeen years apart, and I have a friend whose parents are twenty years apart, so it's really not that far-fetched.

Disclaimer: Forever not mine.

* * *

Chapter 11 – Getting To Know You

_Getting to know you,   
Getting to feel free and easy  
When I am with you,  
Getting to know what to say  
Haven't you noticed  
Suddenly I'm bright and breezy?  
Because of all the beautiful and new  
Things I'm learning about you  
Day by day._

_-Oscar Hammerstein_

Dinner conversation was surprisingly lively as the five of them worked their way through the best food the kitchen elves could offer. Willow was horrified, at first, to learn that her meal had been prepared by slave labor, but Harry had called Tibby out and after talking to her for only five minutes it became clear that the house-elves were absolutely delighted to have guests for whom they could show off. Willow asked her if she wanted to be paid, and the response was so vehement that she immediately took it back. From there the conversation turned to Hermione and SPEW, then to Harry's exploits and Harry and Draco's history. For each exploit they related, one of the Americans would counter with one of their own, or Giles would tell a story from his Hogwarts days.

Harry was surprised to learn that Giles had been a student at Hogwarts, two years ahead of his parents in Arthur Weasley's year. Giles had been a Ravenclaw with a penchant for trouble that set him apart from his housemates. He had friends in all the houses, but Arthur was his best friend until his fifth year. Giles hinted that he and Arthur had taught James and his little gang quite a bit about the secret passages of Hogwarts, and when Draco was busy talking to Xander about their mother Harry told Giles and Willow about the Marauder's Map and the exploring his father had done.

Conversation slowed as the main course was brought out and talking gave way to munching. After a few minutes of contented silence, Draco asked the question that had been bothering him.

"Giles? Why'd you stop hanging about with Weasley your fifth year?"

Giles harrumphed, reddening. "We had a bit of a falling-out."

Draco raised an eyebrow, silently indicating he should continue.

"Yes, well. He asked a girl whom he knew I fancied to the Yule Ball. Did it before I had a chance, too. It was a prickish thing to do, but he never really apologized. It was silly, really, but it took me a long time to forgive him, and by the time I did both of us had fallen into different groups of friends. That was when I started running with Ethan."

This last statement seemed to have some significance to Willow and Xander, but Draco and Harry didn't press the issue. Instead, Harry asked "Who was the girl?"

Giles smiled softly, remembering. "Molly Prewett. Art tells me he married her."

Harry nodded. "They eloped, just after they graduated. They've got seven kids now."

"Ha!" Giles said. "Good for Art. I bet Molly's brothers weren't too happy about that. Gideon and Fabian were two of the most overprotective blokes I've ever seen when it came to their little sister.

Harry and Draco suddenly looked exceedingly uncomfortable. Xander cocked his head.

"What?" They didn't answer right away. "No, there's something you aren't saying. What is it?"

Harry still wouldn't answer, so Draco spoke up. "The Prewett brothers were killed in one of the first battles of the War."

Giles looked horrified. "Oh, no."

Harry nodded. "Mrs. Weasley told me that that's why they eloped. They didn't think her mother would be able to handle a big wedding."

"War?" Xander asked. Draco and Harry looked at each other. Some sort of unspoken agreement seemed to pass between the two of them.

They launched into a short explanation of Voldemort and the first war, ending with the prophesy and his attack on the Potters. Harry pulled back his fringe and showed them his scar.

"Wow." Xander said. "That's a lot to live up to."

Harry snorted. "No kidding? I hadn't noticed. Considering the entire Wizarding world watches every move I make." Years of anger at the pressure the general populace placed on him came through in his voice. "I'm surprised there haven't been articles in the Daily Prophet about me visiting Malfoy yet."

Draco gave him a look. "Potter, they covered it two days ago. Seems Percy Weasley gave them a tip. Honestly, don't you _read_ the paper?"

Harry groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. "Not if I can help it."

Draco studied him for a moment. "It really bothers you, doesn't it?"

"Well, obviously!" Harry said, incredulous. "You think I _want_ to be in the papers ever other blasted week?"

"Truthfully? Yes, I did."

"You bloody great prat."

"Boys, break it up." Xander said with a grin. "You're not allowed to fight while Big Brother's here. I'll crack your skulls together."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're hardly going to be able to stop us, Harris. We've been fighting since the day we met."

Willow cocked her head. "Seems like you like each other just fine for all that, though."

Neither boy had anything to say to that. Giles broke the awkward silence that followed by turning to Malfoy.

"Draco, what about your parents?"

Immediately he was on his guard.

"What about them?"

Giles shrugged innocently. "Were they involved in the War?"

Draco glared at him. "You knew them. You tell me."

Silence. Xander fixed him with a look.

Draco threw his hands up. "Father was a Death Eater, alright? He was the Dark Lord's right-hand man in the first war. Mother hated it, but she couldn't do anything because if she did, the Dark Lord would have had me killed."

Harry gaped. He hadn't heard this before.

"When bloody Potter here –" and Draco made a dismissive gesture in Harry's direction – "brought him back, Father rejoined him and wanted me to join as well."

"Fuck off, Malfoy! I didn't bring him back and you know it –"

"No, but it was your sodding blood that raised him, wasn't it?"

"He would just have found someone else!"

"Do I need to separate you two?" Xander asked quietly, his voice stern. Amazingly, both Harry and Draco shut up. "Thank you. Drake, go on."

"Mother didn't want me to join." Draco continued after a moment, still glaring daggers at Harry. "I didn't have to decide until my seventeenth birthday, last Christmas Holiday. Father was already in Azkaban."

He unbuttoned the cuff of his dress shirt, and pulled his robe and shirt sleeve back, baring his forearm. The pale skin was unmarked.

"As you can see, I refused."

"Good for you." Xander said, his voice proud. Draco's lips twisted into a bitter smile.

"Yes, well. Now I'm on the Dark Lord's list. He wants me turned or dead. Mother worried herself to death over me."

"Oh, Cissy." Giles whispered, shaking his head. Harry, though, was looking at Malfoy oddly.

"Why'd you refuse, Malfoy?"

Draco glared again. "What, the fact that the bastard took my father wasn't bad enough?"

"Not buying it." Harry said. Draco gave him that same bitter smile.

"Know thine enemy, eh, Potter? If you must know, I refused to serve him because of just that. He wanted a servant, a toadie. I'm subservient to no man, Dark Lord or not."

Harry's mouth quirked. "That I can believe. You always were an arrogant prick."

Draco's smile looked a little more like a dog baring its teeth. "Never forget it."

At that moment, a house-elf appeared at Draco's elbow.

"Master, someone is at the door."

Draco frowned and stood fluidly, buttoning his cuff and letting the robe sleeve fall down over it. "Excuse me." He drew his wand from his robe pocket and headed for the front door.

House elves came to clear their dishes. Draco's voice floated in from the foyer, along with a lighter, more jovial voice that Harry recognized. He was standing in a moment, and the next Draco came back into the room with the guest in tow. He was quite old, with long, wiry white hair, a long beard, and twinkling blue eyes, and was clad in sky blue robes with dark green trim and a pointed hat to match.

"Guys, this is Headmaster Dumbledore of Hogwarts."


	12. Ch 12: Get It Started

Author's note: Transition chapter. And I totally copped out on the song lyrics.

Oh, and I decided that I'm never asking for opinions on pairings again. Instead, I'm gonna just _write_ and see what the characters decide. So, there will eventually be a romantic relationship or three, I'm just not sure what they will be yet.

It has been pointed out that the timeline for some of this stuff doesn't work. Oh well. I'm not changing it now – it's called suspension of disbelief. There's a reason I'm not setting a solid date for any of this.

And the one thing that I get from many reviewers on both sites is "When are they gonna tell them about the Slayer?" Look. Buffy's identity is a _secret_. Hell, the whole _existence_ of the Slayer is a secret. Harry and Draco assume that Xander knows what he does from Giles and Willow's experiences with magic. They have no reason to suspect otherwise – yet. And no, I'm not gonna change that – there's too many good opportunities for conflict when they _do_ find out.

Um. I think that's all for now.

Disclaimer: No. Sod off.

* * *

Chapter 12 – Get It Started

_Let's get it started  
in here_

_-Black Eyed Peas_

"Ahh." Dumbledore said, sitting back in his chair and smiling contentedly at his empty dessert plate. "That was most excellent. Please pass my compliments to your kitchen staff, Draco."

Draco gave him a little bow as his guests murmured in agreement.

"Now that the meal is over, I must get down to business. Rupert, I wonder if I may have a word?"

_He wonders,_ Giles thought wryly. _As if I could ever refuse him._ He nodded and both men stood, leaving the four young people behind at the table.

"Well." Xander said. "I'd offer to help with the dishes, but I take it your little elfy things take care of that?"

Draco sniffed a little. "Of course," he said, rather scornfully. "A pureblood Wizard would not lower himself to such menial tasks."

Harry rolled his eyes. "What he means is that he's a spoiled little ponce. I always did dishes, and I'm pureblooded. Lots of families do it that way."

"If by 'lots of families' you mean blood traitors like the Weasleys – "

"Back off, Malfoy." Harry growled.

"Well!" Willow said, putting on a falsely bright smile and clasping her hands together. "What shall we do now?"

"Yeah. What do you guys do around here?" Xander asked. "I mean, you're sorta in the middle of nowhere, and from what you told me it's probably not too safe for either of you to go out very often..."

"Well, I had thought to get you settled into your rooms. Afterwards..." Malfoy shrugged. "It's up to you."

"Rooms would probably be of the good." Xander said. "I'll feel better once my stuff is all, not-balled-up-in-my-bag."

"Well, then. We have lots and lots of very empty rooms. At one time the entire extended Malfoy family lived here, but now it's just me."

"This whole big house to yourself?" Willow gasped. Malfoy wrinkled his nose.

"Up until five days ago, when Potter here decided to crash."

"You invited him, Drake." Xander said with a grin. "Don't try to pretend you're not glad to have someone around."

Draco sneered at him. "As I was saying. We have lots and lots of empty rooms. Some are by themselves, some are en suite. Would you and Willow like to share a room?"

Willow nodded vehemently. "That sounds great. I bet this place is super spooky at night."

Xander gave her an weird look. "Scared a vampire might pop out of the closet and bite you?" he asked. Willow stuck out her tongue. Their banter was innocent, but both read the other one clear as day. _–You're way scarier than anything this house might throw at you. –Oh, shut up._

"Giles will want to be on his own, then."

"Probably. He'd be alright with sharing a suite with us, but he likes his solitude." Willow said.

"Plus, you wake up way, way to early for him." Xander snickered.

Draco stood. "Alright, then." He clapped his hands, and yet another house-elf appeared at his elbow. "Lissy, get Midda and the two of you prepare the third-floor suite for our guests. Their things are in the foyer. Put Mr. Giles in the scarlet room and Willow and Xander in the grey room. From now until they leave, you will follow their instructions." The little house-elf bowed and was gone in a flash.

Xander gave him an incredulous look. "_That's_ settling in?"

Harry laughed. "You expect Queen Malfoy to let his honored guests do their own unpacking?"

"Oh, hah hah bloody hah, Potter." Draco sneered.

Xander rolled his eye, deciding to ignore them for a change. "So now what? We are even more out of ideas than before."

Harry and Draco exchanged a look.

"Well, we could take them flying – "

"Oh!" Harry said. "I completely forgot. Xander, c'mere."

He took out his wand and handed it to Xander, who had come to stand beside him. The man looked at it with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

"What do you want me to do with it?" he asked. Harry grinned.

"Wave it!"

Xander raised an eyebrow at him, but Harry only waved him on as Draco took several steps backward. Shrugging, Xander gave the wand a wave.

A stream of molten lava burst forth from the wand, arcing to land in a smoldering line on the carpet. Startled, Xander jumped back.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry – "

Harry, however, was laughing. He took the wand back and clapped Xander on the shoulder as Malfoy got rid of the lava and repaired the carpet with a wave of his own wand and a few choice words. Willow watched, fascinated.

"Is that how you do magic? Cool!"

Draco gave her an almost shy half-smile. "The library in the suite you're staying in has a very good text comparing Wizardry to Wicca, if you're interested." Willow nodded vehemently.

"So does this mean I'm not a wizard after all?" Xander asked. Harry shook his head.

"Nope, you're definitely a wizard. A Muggle or a Squib wouldn't have been able to make anything happen. It only reacted so badly because it's attuned to me, not you."

"So Wizards can only use their own wands?" Willow asked, just as Xander asked "What's a Squib?" Giles had explained the term Muggle already, since it had been mentioned in Draco's first letter.

"Well, " Draco said, cutting Harry off before he could speak, "a Squib is a non-Wizard born into an all Wizarding family. And yes, wizards can use other people's wands, it just takes more concentration to make them work as well. Your wand is uniquely suited to your personality, to better channel your power."

"I wonder if I could benefit from one." Willow muttered, half to herself. She held out her hand, and Draco relinquished his wand. She gave it a wave.

Nothing.

She sighed. "Oh well. One kind of magic for me, I guess."

"Thank the Goddess!" Xander said, giving Willow an 'are you INSANE' look. "You get into enough trouble with just the one!"

Willow blushed bright crimson and ducked her head. The silence that followed was only slightly less awkward than the other silences they'd had that night.

"So." Harry said. "Want to learn to fly?"

Willow frowned. "Shouldn't he learn something a little easier, first? It took me a really long time to be able to levitate."

Draco blinked. "You can levitate? Without the aid of a broom, or a carpet, or anything?"

"Not even a ritual, anymore. Why? Is that how you fly, on brooms?" She laughed a little as she said it. Harry and Draco exchanged looks.

Willow and Xander exchanged a look of their own at the look on their faces.

"You're kidding." Xander said flatly. Harry broke into a wide grin.

"Come and see," he said, grabbing Xander's wrist and dragging him away. Draco rolled his eyes and mockingly offered Willow his arm.

"Shall we watch them make fools of themselves, my Lady?" he asked with a snotty accent and a smarmy smirk. She giggled a little, stuck her nose in the air, and took his arm.

"I think we shall, my Lord." she said in the same snotty tone. He chuckled and led her out to the back gardens.


	13. Ch 13: No More Lies

Author's note: The last chapter was so short and pointless that even though it was already 2 AM when I loaded it, I decided I _had_ to write and upload another one, despite me having class in the morning. See my dedication? Be thankful.

Disclaimer: See previous 12.

* * *

Chapter 13 – No More Lies

_Time is up, it couldn't last,  
but there's more things I'd like to do,  
I'm coming back,  
to try again,  
some day maybe I'll wait till then...  
no more lies, no more lies,  
no more lies, no more lies._

_-Iron Maiden_

"Rupert. I believe we have several serious issues to discuss."

Giles looked warily at his old Headmaster, seated so innocuously in a plush wingback chair, a cup of gently steaming conjured tea in his hand. He himself leaned against the mantle of the ornate fireplace, polishing his glasses determinedly.

"Do we?" he asked, his voice neutral. Dumbledore set down his teacup and fixed Giles with a penetrating look.

"You must be aware that you had a Ministry crystal in the Department of Scrying dedicated to you, as anyone who is expelled from Hogwarts does."

"Of course. To raise the alarm should I attempt magic again."

"Are you aware, as well, that some years ago you completely disappeared from our scryers?"

Giles blinked. "No. But I can't say I'm surprised."

Dumbledore took another sip of his tea. "You must realize how suspicious that looks, Rupert." His crystal blue eyes watched Giles shrewdly as the man replaced his glasses, set his elbow on the mantle and let his head come to rest on his fist. The firelight threw strange shadows over his face from below him.

"Albus, you must know that soon after my expulsion I joined the Muggle organization known as the Watcher's Council?" Dumbledore nodded. "Well, it was many, many years before I was assigned to a Slayer. She lived in Sunnydale, California."

"A hellmouth." Dumbledore said, his eyes closing for a moment. "Yes, that would explain it." His eyes popped open again as he made a connection. "You were involved in that ruckus when Sunnydale collapsed last year, were you not?"

Giles sighed heavily and nodded. "Yes." He explained, shortly, the battle with the First Evil and how they had eventually overcome its army.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "You struck quite a blow for the side of Good." He frowned. "However, if what you say about the Balance between Good and Evil is true, it is possible you may have inadvertently tipped the scales too far towards Good once more. It would explain the Dark Lord's recent...activity." Without waiting for Giles to comment, he looked up and fixed Giles with his blue-eyed stare again.

"But you did not use a wand for these past eight years? You kept your oath?"

Giles nodded. "I did. I considered it my repentance – well, part of it – for what I had done. But I have done earth-magic." He grimaced. "I had no choice."

Dumbledore nodded, stroking his whiskers. "Yes, I see. Well, earth-magic was not a part of your oath. Indeed, I doubt many even knew you were adept with it." Quite suddenly he smiled. "This eases my mind considerably. I am glad to see I made the right decision in asking for your pardon."

Giles raised his brows. "Ah, so it was you Arthur got to pressure Fudge. I should have known the old bastard wouldn't have pardoned me otherwise."

"Which brings me to my second concern. In order to convince Fudge, I told him I was considering hiring you as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for this year."

Giles looked up in complete shock. "Are you serious?"

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "Completely. You have always shown a true talent for the Dark Arts, both the practice of and the defense against. I did not, however, know what sort of a man you had become, having not seen you for some two decades; however, I did not believe that you would follow Ethan down his path. From the story you just told me, I can only deduce that you have become a much stronger and more righteous man than even I could have foreseen."

Giles quirked a smile at him. "Thank you, Headmaster. That means a lot, coming from you."

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "Do you still believe yourself in need of redemption? Have you not yet forgiven yourself for the mistakes of your youth?" When Giles didn't answer right away, Dumbledore continued. "I will be candid with you. I believe that the war against the Dark Lord will come to a head this year, and that the major players will be the young people in there," he indicated the dining room with a tilt of his head, "and their peers. Already Harry has faced Voldemort in direct confrontation three times, and once again as a projection of his youth, in Tom Riddle. Draco has only recently openly declared his allegiance, and though he is wanted by their side he is hated and scorned by ours. Your young man, Alexander, will become a target as soon as Voldemort learns of him, and be put in even more danger if his parentage is revealed. And, though I hate to say it," Dumbledore sighed, "he has had designs on Willow since she first came to his attention two years ago." He looked Giles in the eyes. "The students need someone who can teach them how to recognize evil, outsmart it, and defeat it. I don't pretend that it is an easy task, but it is a necessary one. Any other year I can afford to hire a less-than-useful Dark Arts professor. Indeed, I have had a rash of bad luck these past few years; there have only been two really good professors in the past ten, and one of them turned out to be an imposter. But this year, I cannot afford anything but the best."

"And you think I can do all that?" Giles asked in a rather small voice. "That's quite a lot of pressure."

Dumbledore smiled. "A valid point. But you will not be alone, I think. Any of the more permanent professors would gladly give you any advice or assistance they can offer, myself included. You will have the support of several members of the Order of the Phoenix as well, including Arthur and Molly, Alastor Moody, and Remus Lupin, all of whom are experienced Dark fighters. And, for the more menial work, may I suggest you take Willow as an assistant? She may also teach an elective dealing with Earth magic, if she feels up to it."

Giles smiled softly. "She'd love that. She's an excellent teacher."

Dumbledore flicked his wand at his empty teacup, which disappeared. "So you are in agreement, then?"

Giles sighed. "Can I think about it for a few days, discuss it with Willow and Xander? I have responsibilities to the new Council that will have to be taken care of, as well."

Dumbledore got to his feet. "Of course. The term starts in two weeks, so I will need your answer by the end of this one. If not, then I will be forced to move Severus to the job. Mediocre Potions professors are much easier to come by than really good Dark Arts professors." He sighed. "I would hate to do so, though. Since Tom cursed the position fifty years ago, I've never kept a Dark Arts teacher for more than a year. I can't really afford to lose Severus, but desperate times..."

Giles nodded. "I understand." Then, Dumbledore's words really sank in. "Severus? Severus Snape?"

Dumbledore nodded. "The most talented Potions Master to come out of Hogwarts in a century. Why he longs for the Dark Arts position is beyond me; his calling is obviously elsewhere. Ah, well. The need for redemption knows no logic."

He swept towards the doorway, stopping with his hand on the jamb. He looked back over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Rupert? You owe Arthur the truth."

With that, he was gone.


	14. Ch 14: If I Could Fly

Author's note: Yep, starting to slow down now. Got hit with writer's block right in the middle of this – combined with final projects equals no updatey. Oh, well, you got one now!

I decided that we'd had lots of backstory but not enough characterization. Hence, this chapter.

And brooms! Whee!

Coming up next – Weasleys.

Disclaimer: Wish it were mine. It's not. Sue me and you will get nothing.

* * *

Chapter 14 – If I Could Fly

_No fear, no pain  
Nobody left to blame  
I'll try alone  
Make destiny my own  
I learn to free my mind  
Myself I now must find  
Once more  
Once more  
_

_If I could fly  
Like the king of the sky  
Could not tumble nor fall  
I would picture it all  
If I could fly  
See the world through my eyes  
Would not stumble nor fail  
To the heavens I sail  
If I could fly_

_-Helloween_

Harry and Draco led Willow and Xander down the paved path through the hedge maze to the field where they flew.

For the past three days, whenever one or the other was bored, they had dragged the other one out to the field. Draco had a Snitch with which he practiced, spelled against leaving the confines of the field just as a game Snitch was spelled against leaving the stadium. They would set it free and chase it around, swearing hotly at each other and sometimes degenerating into roughhousing in the air. They shoved each other off their brooms often enough that they had gotten quite good at Accio'ing their broom back to themselves, wandlessly, in mid-air.

As they walked, Harry and Draco summoned their brooms. Draco also summoned his old Comet 360 for Xander.

"I don't think you'll have any problems, Xander," Harry said as he caught his broom. "Flying runs in the family. On both sides, for you."

Draco caught his brooms, one in each hand, and tossed the Comet to Xander.

"And we need to see if you like it, so we know whether to get you a real broom when we go to Diagon Alley for your wand."

Xander examined the broom in his hands. It was nowhere near as fancy as the Harry's red Firebolt or Draco's black Nimbus 2001, a little beat-up with a few stray twigs sticking out at odd angles.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm gonna _fly_ on this thing?"

Harry grinned and tucked his wand into his robes, as Draco used his to activate the magic lanterns placed around the field. It was nearly nine and the sun had set long ago.

"You bet. Here, I'll show you." He led Xander to the center of the field.

Draco let his broom sit in midair and mounted it, leaning back to angle the stick upward slightly and resting his forearms on the smooth handle in front of him.

Willow came up and ran her hands over the lacquered wood, fascinated.

"Do you mind if I...?" she asked. Draco shrugged.

She closed her eyes and reached out with her power, gently prodding at the enchantments on the broom. A slight breeze came up, lifting her hair away from her face.

"It's so complex!" she said softly, more to herself than to Draco. "Enchanted for levitation, locomotion, acceleration and deceleration, control, even comfort. This must have taken years to create."

Draco shrugged again. "The spells themselves, yeah. Once those are done, though, an experienced broom-company can produce hundreds a year. And don't forget, this is a newer model. Each model builds on the spells of its predecessors."

Willow smiled. "I still find it hard to fathom a society that treats magic so casually, the way we normal folk treat technology. I have to be so careful..."

She shivered.

Draco frowned, concerned. "Are you cold? It's a bit breezy out here."

Willow looked up at him, surprised. "Oh! Ah, I guess I am."

Draco shrugged his shoulders out of his heavy green robe, leaving him in a pair of plain black slacks and his favorite steel-grey button down. "Here." He handed it to Willow, who took it thankfully, settling it over her shoulders as she regarded him thoughtfully.

"Did you dress up to meet us today, or is that what you always wear?" she asked, a little tactlessly. Draco looked confused.

"This is what I always wear. The robe's a little nicer than my every day, but I wear these clothes," and he indicated himself with a vague motion of his hand, "all the time. Why?"

"It's just more formal than I would have thought, that's all. Don't you ever wear jeans?"

"You mean those horrid coarse Muggle things that Xander was wearing? Why ever would I?"

She regarded him thoughtfully, pulling her arms through the robe sleeves and buttoning the clasps. She was practically swimming in it, so Draco uttered a simple charm that shrunk the robe to fit her slim frame.

"Better. The color looks good with your hair."

"Thanks," she said, blushing a little. "I always thought green washed my skin out."

"Nooo." Draco said, shaking his head. "It looks stunning on you."

Willow gave him a suspicious look. "Are you flirting with me? Cause I should remind you that I like the ladies."

Draco sighed. "I'm sorry. It's habit. If it offends you, I'll try to stop."

"Eh, no big." she said with a shrug. "Compliments are always nice. Just remember that I'll mojo you into next week if you try anything. Not to mention what Xander would do to you."

He smothered a smile. "I'll keep it in mind."

"Oh, look!"

Draco looked. Harry had Xander off the ground, clinging to his broom for dear life. He was teaching the older man how to move forward.

Xander cautiously leaned forward, just as Harry had said, and began to move. Startled, he sat up, and the broom came to a stop.

Harry laughed, circling around him. "You're a natural," he said with a grin. "You just have to get a feel for it."

Xander considered this. "It's sort of like riding a skateboard or a snowboard. Everything is controlled by shifting your weight." With that in mind, he pressed forward again, this time a little quicker. He leaned to the right and was delighted when the old broom complied, turning just as he had wanted. He laughed.

"This is awesome!"

Willow regarded Draco out of the corner of her eye as he watched the two dark-haired men play around in the air.

His mouth was curved into a slight smile, his icy blue-grey eyes amused.

"He's the best brother you could have, you know."

Draco looked up at her, startled. She smiled softly.

"We all grew up as only children. Me, him, you and Harry. Whenever I needed a brother, Xander was there. I'm sure it'll be the same for you two."

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded and turned his attention back to the others. They were silent for another few moments, then Willow spoke again.

"So what's up between you and Harry?" she asked quietly. "One minute you're laughing and joking, the next you're snarling and about to beat the crap out of each other."

He didn't take his eyes off the field.

"We hated each other. For years and years, we hated each other. Hated each other's friends, hated each other's families, hated everything the other stood for."

Willow shivered a little more, and without thinking Draco put an arm around her. She leaned a head on his shoulder, just as she would have Xander's.

"So what changed?" she asked.

He shrugged, still looking ahead. It was easier, somehow, to say things when he wasn't looking directly into her eyes.

"I guess we both just grew up. When the Dark Lord first came back, my father suddenly changed. He was never a kind or caring man, but he became outright negligent and sometimes cruel to me and my mother." He sighed. "That was right around the time I was starting to realize I had a brain and could think for myself. It took a couple years, but by the time Father was put in Azkaban, I had decided to try to avoid taking the Mark. When my mother died, well...it just strengthened my resolve. She was the only one who ever loved me."

He snorted. "I must sound like a whiny little girl, prattling on like that." Willow shook her head, making a noise of protest.

"No, you sound like a kid who's never had anyone listen to him. Go on."

Draco smiled a little bitterly at that one. "Well, Potter lost his godfather, I hear, at the end of his fifth year. He considers it his own fault, even though greater minds than his have been duped by the Dark Lord time and time again. Selfish git."

Willow hid a smile.

"I guess Black's death put things in perspective for him. He stopped putting so much stock in the house rivalry, in the fights with the rest of my House, even other's opinions about him. It would take a bloody good insult to make him angry, and when we did fight, it was less like anger and more like...catharsis, I suppose. Directing all of our hate and loneliness and grief and fear at each other in one loud, messy, usually bloody fight. And when it was done, we'd be almost civil towards each other for weeks."

He folded his forearms over his broom handle, dropping his chin on them as his broom automatically tilted to make the position more comfortable. Willow shifted so that she had her own forearms crossed over his back, leaning on him gently, as the two of them watched Harry teach Xander to dive.

"We're really more alike than either one of us likes to admit, I think."

"I'd say so." Willow said. After a moment, she carefully added, "From what I've seen, you two act almost like brothers."

Draco let out a derisive snort of laughter. "Did you feel the earth shift? Because I swear every last damn Malfoy just rolled in their graves."

"All except one." Willow said pointedly. "You're still above ground."

"If you put it that way, Father makes two."

Willow wrinkled her nose. "He doesn't count. He may as well be dead."

Draco didn't answer. Willow, afraid she might have gone too far, gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

"Drake? I'm sorry."

He turned and smiled at her a little. "My mother used to call me that." He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. "No, don't be sorry. You're right. I was just thinking."

"Thinking what?" she asked.

"About me being a Malfoy." He shifted slightly. "I was just wondering if it would be worth the statement to get my name legally changed to Black."

Willow grinned, running his silky blond ponytail through her fingers. "It hardly fits you, Drake."

He sneered at her for a moment, then sobered. "No, in my looks I take after my father, that's for sure. But I've always been more like Mum. Y'know, good grades and such. Mother was almost a Ravenclaw."

He frowned as a thought occurred to him.

"If James Potter never claimed Xander as his son, that means he's technically a Black. I think that would make him the only living male heir to the Black estate. Mother only had sisters, and Sirius and Regalus Black are dead." He bit his lip, thinking. "I'll find out tomorrow. If Xander's got an inheritance coming to him, I'll make sure he gets it."

"Please do," Giles said from behind them. Both young people jumped. "Xander has been getting by but a lucky windfall would be very useful to him."

He came up next to them and added, "Albus has left, Draco. He thanks you once again for your hospitality."

Looking up, Giles groaned a little. "Oh, all we need is that boy in the air," he said softly as Willow and Draco chuckled.

As if they had heard, but more likely because they saw that Giles had joined the other two, the two dark-haired men came back to earth, flushed and grinning.

Giles removed his glasses and started cleaning them out of habit. Blinking, he realized that without them, the two men in front of him could have easily been James and Sirius. Looking to the side, he could almost see Lily and Remus, if the quieter boy had suddenly decided to bleach his hair.

He rubbed his glasses furiously with his shirt-tail and jammed them back on his face.

He had a feeling these four were going to be trouble.


	15. Ch 15: Born to be Wild

Aaaaaaand I'm back. Didya miss me?

Sorry about the wait. School ended, so I was busy getting settled, then I started work...so yeh.

I know I promised Weasleys, but...this needed to go somewhere. So Weasleys next time.

On we go!

Disclaimer – Yadda yadda, blardeblar, not mine.

ooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

**Chapter 15 – Born to be Wild**

_Like a true nature's child  
We were born, born to be wild  
We can climb so high  
I never wanna die_

_Born to be wild  
Born to be wild_

_Steppenwolf_

"So I see you and Blondie were getting pretty close earlier."

Xander and Willow were sitting in their rooms in their nightclothes several hours later. Willow was artfully fluffing and arranging her pillows, examining them with a critical eye in the search for the most comfortable setup.

The room was large and luxurious, with two full-sized four-post beds fitted with dove grey silk sheets trimmed in silver satin. Heavy silver-and-cream brocade draperies hung from the posts, and both beds were swamped under many shapes and sizes of plush pillows in matching fabrics. The floor was dark hardwood, with a large monochromatic Oriental-style rug between the two beds. Their clothes had been unpacked and carefully hung in the hardwood wardrobes that stood against either wall.

Willow shot Xander an eyebrow.

"And I saw that you were ignoring him entirely."

Xander looked affronted. "I was not _ignoring_ him, I was just..."

Willow rolled her eyes. "I know, you were _just_. But I do think Drake felt a little left out, even though he tried not to show it. He's your brother too, yanno."

"I didn't mean to!" Xander said, looking stricken. "Damnit woman, now I feel guilty."

Willow gave him a little smile. "I live to serve."

"What should I do?" Xander rested his elbows on his knees, looking at her questioningly. Willow shrugged.

"You could call that little elfy thing and find out if he's still up."

Xander scrunched up his nose. "Those things give me a major wiggins," he muttered, but he clapped his hands twice like he'd seen Draco doing. Tibby's little sister Lissy appearing in the room, bowed low and looked up at him questioningly.

"Uh. Is Draco still up?" Xander asked, feeling a little stupid.

"Young Master is in Mistress' library, Sir." she replied. Xander nodded.

"Could you tell me where?"

The little creature nodded and held out a hand. Above it a map of the inside of the Manor began drawing itself in gold light.

"We is here," she said, pointing. "Master is here."

She indicated a room one floor down, around the corner at the end of a hall. Xander nodded and she closed her hand. The map disappeared.

She seemed to be waiting for something, so Xander nodded to her. "Thank you, Lissy."

She bowed and was gone. Willow flopped back onto her pillows and grinned at him.

"Have fun!"

Xander stuck out his tongue and left the room, passing through the joint sitting room/library they shared with Giles, who was reading in a wingback chair. Giles raised an eyebrow, peering over the edge of his tome.

"Don't stay up too late, Xander." he admonished in a gentle, fatherly tone. "We have a call to make tomorrow."

"Yeah, your school buddy, I know. I'll be in bed in a bit." Xander said with a roll of his eyes as he padded out of the room.

He made his way down the stairs and across the hall quietly. In the dark the house seemed infinitely creepier than it did during the day, and he could swear the portraits were giving him dirty looks.

He slipped into the library quietly. Draco was at the shelves, running his hands over the spines of the books, obviously looking for something.

Xander grinned.

"You look like you're in Research Mode."

Draco jumped, startled, and let out a huff of breath when he saw who it was.

"Merlin! Don't sneak up on a man like that," he said. "What are you doing up?"

Xander suddenly felt a bit stupid for his little spur-of-the-moment plan. He shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep?"

Draco gave him a little smirk and returned his gaze to the shelves. "With Willow in the same room, I wouldn't be able to either." He selected a tome, tipping it off the shelf with a long digit and adding it to the stack under his other arm.

Xander made a face, coming further into the room. "Mind out of the gutter, Rich Boy, she's like my sister. And lesbian besides." _And still grieving for Tara_, he thought but did not add.

Draco shot him an amused glance. "Of course." Xander narrowed his eyes, but chose to ignore the implications of the blonde's tone, changing the subject instead.

"So what are you researching?"

"The Animagus spell." Draco said, his attention turned back to the books. He added another one to his pile.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"It allows a wizard to take an animal as a second natural form."

"Really? Like, poof, I'm a lizard?"

Draco chuckled. "It's a bit more complicated than that, but yes. Once you complete the spell, you can change back and forth from your animal form to your human form at will, and anything you are wearing or carrying changes with you."

Xander sat in one of the chairs, throwing his feet up and watching Draco from across the room.

"Is it hard?"

"Exceedingly." Draco pulled one final book off the shelves and came over to the other chair, noting out of the side of his vision how Xander was sitting almost the same position as Harry had been a few nights before. "There are seven registered Animagi, plus a couple unregistered. I'd guess that there are less than a dozen alive right now."

He sat, setting his books heavily on the table next to him, and summoned his notes and quill. "Your father was an unregistered Animagi, I hear."

Xander cocked his head. "Really? That's uber cool. What animal?"

Draco bit his lip, thinking back to the conversation he and Potter had had the previous day on the subject. "A stag, I think."

"Hmm. Seems like kind of an obscure choice, but cool anyway."

"It wasn't a choice." Draco said with a smirk. "A wizard only can have one Animagus form, and it's chosen by their personality. If I can do it, I won't know what form I will take until I complete the spell."

"Huh." Xander cocked his head. "What do you think you'd be?"

Draco plopped down into his usual chair, settling his books and his notes on his lap. Xander took a seat in the other chair.

"I don't know. I've thought about it, a little, but I really can't decide." He smiled a little. "A dragon would be the obvious choice; but taking a magical alternate form requires a completely separate spell to be performed along with the original ritual, and I'd rather not be so conspicuous." He set his quill to the parchment, but did not write. "I think I'd like to be something that flew. But, like I said, it's determined by your personality."

They were quiet for a moment.

"I think I know what I'd be." Xander said. Draco gave him a questioning eyebrow.

"I'd be a hyena."

He said it with such confidence that Draco had to put his pen down and regard Xander with an incredulous gaze.

"What makes you so sure?"

So Xander launched into an abridged version of the story of the hyena spirit that had possessed him, back in high school. He left out a few of the more unbelievable parts, and Buffy's role entirely.

"Ever since then, when I get angry, I feel the spirit in me. It's become a part of me, now." Xander shrugged. "I just can't see it letting another animal form take up residence in me. It's awfully possessive."

"Huh." Draco cracked his knuckles, his face pensive. "I wonder how that would affect the ritual?"

"Think we could find out?" Xander asked, getting a little excited. "Think I could do this Anima-whatsit thing?"

Draco grinned back at him, glad to see his brother taking an interest in his pet project. "I don't see why not. I'll help you with it."

"Awesome." The two boys grinned at each other, and fell into plans for their spell.


	16. Ch 16: Fiddler on the Green

Author's note: Wow, sorry about the wait, guys. This chapter's been half-written for _months_, but I took a little time off to watch Buffy all the way through. I am happy to say I now have a much clearer understanding of the characters and conflicts in the show than I did back when I'd just seen a dozen or so random episodes. And then school started back up again and stuff has been crazy, so yeah. Hopefully now that I'm back to having hours and hours of free time, the writing (on both this fic and Serenity) should come faster.

And I got my act together and wrote out a vague outline of the rest of the story. So it's actually going somewhere, now.

Finally, the promised Weasleys!

Disclaimer: It's been a while, so I'll bite. None of this is mine. It all belongs to Joss, J.K., and several other people and organizations who are not me. Except the plot. For the most part, that's mine.

* * *

Chapter 16 – Fiddler on the Green 

_Her face was pale  
Her body smashed  
Her beauty's gone_

_Isn't it a shame   
The reaper said  
He is quite alone here  
And still waiting for you_

_Demons and Wizards_

"C'mon, Drake. You can't be alone here in the house all day." Willow pleaded.

"Absolutely not." Draco replied, his lip curling.

"Yeah, come on, _Drake_." Harry said, a rather malicious grin on his face. "Don't you want to spend the day surrounded by Weasleys?"

Draco shuddered.

"You only suggest it because you know I'll be hexed six ways to Sunday the second I set foot in their wretched little hovel," he said, plopping himself down into the nearest armchair in a manner which screamed 'now I'm comfortable, you can't make me move'.

"And that's only if Ginny spots you first." Harry said, still unable to wipe the grin from his face. "I wonder what would happen if the twins got to you before her? Or Ron, or any of his brothers...or hell, what about his mother?"

Paling a little, Draco dumped a book into his lap and glared.

Ten minutes later, Willow had given up trying to convince him, and she, Giles, and Xander stood in a little circle around Harry, each with a finger on his necklace.

"Ready?" Harry asked. They all nodded.

"_Rutilus__ capillus_." With a pop, they were gone.

* * *

They appeared in a homey, cluttered kitchen. Sunlight poured in through a small but sparklingly clean window over the sink, and seated at the table in the room were six redheads, all pale and freckled and so very much a family. Willow liked the place immediately. Magic was soaked into the home from roof to foundation; sharp, clean Wizarding magic. Wizard's magic always had a sort of sterile feel to it, but in a good way; like chlorinated pool water or the air conditioned atmosphere in a car. 

The eldest man at the table stood quickly. He was tall and lanky, perhaps in his late 40s, his red hair beginning to thin on top. His clothes, like the rest of the house, looked comfortably shabby and well-worn, an open wizard's robe over a tweed jacket to rival Giles' early Librarian days.

He approached them, smiling warmly. "Rupert."

"Arthur. It's been far too long." Giles' tone was just as warm, and the two men embraced.

It was like someone took a TV off of mute. Everyone in the room started talking at once.

Somehow, in the hullabaloo, everyone managed to get introduced to everyone else. Willow and Xander met Molly, Arthur's pudgy, motherly wife, Ron, Harry's best friend, Fred and George, the grinning twins who kept finishing each other's sentences, and Ginny, the youngest Weasley and the only girl. Molly fussed over Xander, examining him and telling him how much he looked like his parents. The twins immediately flanked Willow, bombarding her with questions about America, Xander, herself, and her taste in men. When they discovered she was lesbian, they exchanged a gleeful glance over her head and launched into still more questions. Giles and Arthur watched the scene, making comments to each other and chuckling.

Ron and Ginny pulled Harry aside.

"So what's he like?" Ginny asked. Harry smiled a little.

"He's brilliant. He's really laid back and funny, and he's already acting like my brother."

"He certainly _looks_ like your brother." Ginny muttered, brown eyes raking over Xander's form. "Only older. And bigger. And he's only got one eye, why is that?"

"Um. He said something about a crazy priest. We've all been too polite to ask him to elaborate." Harry said.

"How'd he take the whole Wizard mess?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged.

"Turns out Giles was a wizard, and Willow's a Wiccan witch. So he wasn't too put off by the whole thing. Although," he continued, lowering his voice. Ron and Ginny leaned closer to hear. "I rather think all three of them are hiding something. Well, not so much hiding, as just...not telling?"

Ginny nodded, knowing what he meant, but Ron frowned.

"Why do you think that?"

"He was just...so comfortable, with the whole ordeal. Like Portkeying halfway across the world into a society he never knew existed was normal. Like it's not the strangest thing he's ever done. And there are these looks they keep shooting each other, as if they have a secret language or some rot like that. Every other sentence seems to have a deeper meaning to them that they're simply not telling." He took a deep breath. "It's kind of like the looks Remus and Sirius used to do. When they talked about their pasts."

Harry's monologue was interrupted by Molly shooing everyone to the living room, a tea tray in her hands. The Weasleys and Harry exchanged rueful smiles. The Americans were about to get the third degree.

* * *

"So, Xander," Molly said as she poured him another cup of tea, "are you seeing anyone?" 

"Trust Mum to go straight for the throat," George stage-whispered to Fred.

Xander blushed a little. "No. I was seeing this girl, Anya – well, actually, I was engaged to her. Got all the way up to the day of."

"Oh, dear," Molly said, entranced. "What happened?"

"I got cold feet." Xander shrugged. "Very chilly icy popsicle feet, in fact." He dropped his eyes into his cup. "I left her at the alter."

"You bastard." Ginny breathed, her eyes wide. Molly looked sharply at her daughter, appalled, but Xander shook his head.

"No, she's right. It was a huge mistake, and I miss her." He shared a significant glance with Willow, who squeezed his knee reassuringly. "I miss her a lot."

Arthur, not missing those glances, wisely chose to change the subject.

"What about you, Rupes? I see you're not married. Been going stag your whole life?"

Molly suddenly looked stricken. "Oh Rupert, I _hope_ not!"

Giles turned a little red, harrumphing and hmm-ing like he did when he was trying to buy time to think. "Yes, well...we don't want to talk about _my_ love life."

"Oh, why not?" Molly asked. "It can't be as bad as all that."

"Oh yes it can." Giles muttered. But Molly kept pushing, desperate to know she hadn't ruined her old friend's chances at happiness by choosing Arthur.

Finally she pushed too far.

"Olivia left me after finding out my past and Jenny and Joyce are both dead."

His voice was cold, matter-of-fact, and Willow and Xander could hear a little Ripper in it. The room fell silent immediately.

After a moment, Molly put her hand on Rupert's.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have – I didn't know."

Giles let out a long breath, then smiled at her softly. "You couldn't have."

"Giles." Xander said, genuinely confused but also looking to lighten the mood. "You count Joyce in your love life?"

"Hey, yeah." Willow said, looking just as confused. "You never dated her – did you?"

Giles sighed and rolled his eyes. "I certainly would have asked her, had Ethan not mucked up the works."

"Ethan. Ethan Rayne?" Arthur asked. "He was the Slytherin you fell in with our fifth year. Wasn't he expelled the same time you were?"

Giles nodded. "Sometime after he and I parted ways Ethan began to worship the chaos god Janus. He decided it would be – _funny_ – to have the children at the high school sell enchanted candy to their parents."

"But that doesn't explain why – oh. Oh no. What did you do?" Willow asked accusingly. Giles frowned.

"You mean to say Buffy never told you? Well, no, I could see why she wouldn't. Let it only be said that neither of us was ourselves and we acted in a way we normally would never."

He pulled out his handkerchief and started rubbing his glasses, mostly so he wouldn't have to see the looks on his young friends' faces as they figured out what had happened.

"Afterwards we were both so embarrassed we could barely look each other in the eye. It was years before we were comfortable in each other's presence again, and we always stayed far away from the subject of relationships of any kind." He set his glasses back on his nose. "In any case, Joyce's death was difficult enough. I can't imagine what I would have done had I been married to her, or even dating her at the time."

"How did she die?" Ginny asked, her voice a little choked. She was had been reading too many romance novels of late, and was beginning to see Giles as the hero in a particularly tragic one.

"Aneurism. Relatively painless, but also quite sudden; we had no warning."

"And the other? Jenny?" Molly asked. Giles' face darkened.

"Murdered."

"And that's our cue for a change in subject." Xander said, overly bright. "Hey. Willow dated a werewolf."

"Xander!" Willow said.

"That's bloody brilliant," Ron said, grinning. "We had a professor who was a werewolf once – Professor Lupin. Unfortunately, everyone found out and he had to retire."

"Lupin?" Giles asked. "Remus Lupin? One of James Potter's gang?" Xander sat up a little straighter at that.

"My dad knew a werewolf? He had a gang?"

Harry nodded. "The only one of them left, really." He sighed. "Sirius Black died a little over a year ago, and Pettigrew..." He and Ron shared a dark look.

"Pettigrew defected, didn't he," Giles said, softly. Everyone in the room looked a little startled.

"Apparently he'd been playing both sides since before he graduated." Arthur said softly. "He's the one who betrayed the Potters. He framed Black for it." He recounted a shortened version of the story. Willow, noticing both Harry and Xander getting very tense and quiet on either side of her, slipped a hand into each of theirs and squeezed. Harry threw her a grateful look, Xander only squeezed back.

"So he got Potter killed, Black thrown into Azkaban and he faked his own death, leaving Lupin by himself." Giles said. "What a complete bastard."

"Is he dead?" Xander asked suddenly. "Can I make him dead?" He had never known any of these men, but James had been his father and Sirius his brother's godfather. He knew next to nothing about this Lupin guy, but from the way Ron's face lit up when he talked about his former teacher he must be a great guy. Besides, Xander was already picturing an older Oz in his head when he thought of Lupin. Friendship by association.

Tense chuckles were heard all around, as if the majority of the room thought he was joking. He was, somewhat, but Giles and Willow both shot him looks. They knew he could do it if it came down to it.

"Rupert, how did you guess Pettigrew had betrayed?" Molly asked. Giles shrugged.

"I've seen enough betrayal by now to recognize the signs, at least in hindsight. I didn't know them that well, especially since I was expelled before the war really heated up, but if you'd told me back then I wouldn't have been too surprised. Pettigrew was always looking for protection – if things got bad enough that it looked like it wouldn't be safe to be on the side of good, I could believe he'd switch."

"You have to wonder how a prat like that ended up in Gryffindor." Ron said.

"For the same reason Neville or Hermione did, or why Rupert was a Ravenclaw when he so clearly should have been in Gryffindor, or why families like the Crabbes and Goyles are traditionally Slytherin even though they don't have an ambitious bone in their body. No one knows." Arthur said. "The Sorting Hat has its reasons."

_Maybe Pettigrew _had_ to betray James and Lily,_ Giles thought but wisely did not say. _Maybe they had to die so that Harry could grow up exactly as he did, so that Voldemort would mark him, so that someone would have the power to defeat the Dark Lord and restore the balance._ That train of thought lead to other, equally disturbing thoughts. _Perhaps Hermione and this Neville needed to be there with Harry for some reason. Perhaps I was placed in Ravenclaw so I would not be able to reconcile myself with Art so quickly, so I could meet Ethan and get kicked out, so that I would follow my destiny and be Buffy's Watcher..._ The thought that his whole life was planned out in advance, and set in motion by a _hat_ of all things, rather made him feel sick.

"This conversation is rather depressing." George said in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. "Maybe we should cut the chatter for a while?"

"An excellent plan, Brother Mine." Fred said, his voice much cheerier, though a little forced. "Harry, have you gotten on your broom at all this summer? It's your last year and it's absolutely _imperative_ Gryffindor wins the Cup."

Harry smiled a little. "Actually, I've been practicing every day. Malfoy's got a Snitch; we've been taking it out whenever we get bored."

Ron gave Harry a strange look at his judicious usage of the word _we_ in conjunction with Malfoy. Harry didn't notice. Willow did.

"Yesterday I taught Xander to fly," Harry continued. "He's a natural. We should go out now, and teach him to play," he suggested. The Weasleys agreed enthusiastically, and the seven of them – the four Weasley children, Harry, and Xander, with Willow tagging along, though she had no intention of flying – piled out of the house, talking animatedly.

"What do you say, Rupes?" Arthur asked, amused. "Care to find out if you're still as good on a broom as you were twenty years ago?"

Giles turned to him, and Arthur was taken aback by the seriousness in his green eyes. Rupes had never been serious. Ripper had been serious when it suited him, usually with a side of dangerous. But this was a man Arthur had never seen before. He looked...tired. Aged, even.

_A man who's seen the death of two women he loved, _Arthur thought. _And Merlin knows what else._

"Art, Molly. We need to talk."


	17. Ch 17: Young and Proud

Author's note: Ugh. You guys have waited _far_ too long for this chapter. I suck. Feel free to throw things at me.

That said, this chapter is very long and very, very wordy. Sorry. I had a very vivid vision of Giles' past, and I really wanted to go into detail. It was either that or start a new fic that would be prequel to this one, which may yet come, but...I thought it'd be better to just concentrate on this for now.

Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except the basic plot and the actual wording. The term "cranking" isn't mine either, it comes from a very good fic that I read a long time ago and have since lost track of. If you happen to know the title/author of the story that that concept comes from, please, enlighten me, so I can give credit where credit is due.

_Warning: mentions of drug use._

* * *

**Chapter 17 – Young and Proud**

_We're much too young  
And life's so big  
We don't know yet what the future brings in its hands for us  
What tomorrow brings the future knows  
No matter what you say  
No matter what you do  
We are united  
Young and Proud  
Young and Proud  
We're on the same side of destiny  
On the same side of destiny_

_-Ace of Base_

When Dumbledore had told Giles that Arthur deserved the truth, it had taken him a while to guess what the old wizard was referring too. Before bed the night before Giles had sat up for hours, trying to decide what he was going to say. He finally decided to just say all of it.

Giles started with the moment he had asked Molly to the Yule Ball, only to find out his best friend had beaten him to it. He told them how angry he'd been, recalling that he didn't speak to either of them for weeks afterwards. None of this was new to either of them, but it was necessary to remind them, because they needed to understand his mindset before he told them the rest.

"Over that Christmas I ran into Ethan Rayne at a bar in London. Ethan had been looking for a guitarist for a band he wanted to put together, and I had some minimal experience. Having always wanted to be in a musical group, I agreed to join. Soon after Ethan brought me to his flat, where I met keyboardist Deidre Page, drummer Thomas Sutcliff, and bassist Randall Henry, along with Randall's Muggle brother Phillip, who provided the sound equipment for the band's Muggle gigs. Apparently Ethan had been both playing guitar and singing lead at that point, which did not seem to agree with him, so once he learned I could sing as well as play guitar we agreed to share both roles, switching off songs." Giles paused to sip his tea, giving Arthur a chance to cut in.

"Rupert, I never understood why you hung around with Rayne and Page and all of them. They were the most notorious troublemakers in our year, even moreso than the two of us, and Slytherin besides."

Giles shrugged, closing his eyes as scenes from those few good months flashed before him.

"To be frank, I was lonely. Too proud to contact you, too afraid of becoming a carbon copy of my father if I stayed at home... Ethan always had charisma. He had the most wonderful sense of humor – darker, perhaps, than I was used to, but at that age it only added to his appeal. He was handsome, and intelligent, and already a very powerful wizard, and his band's popularity was growing fast. I'm afraid the lure of acclaim and the rock lifestyle hooked me like a fish. By joining them, I thought I would get an equal share of his limelight."

Arthur and Molly didn't seem to know what to say to that, so they waited. After a moment Giles shook himself and continued.

"At first, it was everything I'd hoped it would be and more. Being nearly all Slytherin – Sutcliff, if you'll recall, was in fact Hufflepuff – the five of us were determined to become the best. We practiced for nearly two weeks straight before our first show on Christmas Eve of that year. I loved it, of course. I had friends, and a goal, and I barely had to spend any time at home. Ethan and I became very close very quickly, and I'm afraid I may have made some disparaging remarks to him about Gryffindor in general and you in particular."

Giles looked beyond apologetic, so Arthur simply waved this off. It was years ago, after all.

"Ethan, of course, encouraged me, and the rest of the band followed his lead. It wasn't long before I had covered any remaining friendly feelings towards Gryffindor with a disdain to rival that of any Slytherin."

"Our first show was incredible. We mostly did covers, but a few of the songs Randall and I had written together. The crowd loved us. Quite loudly, actually, as they were nearly all three sheets to the wind."

"When Ethan and I switched places for the second set, he surprised me by doing a very dramatic introduction, presenting me as Ripper. I think he had made the name up on the spot – after all, Rupert isn't a very good name for a rocker – but the crowd loved it and so did I. It was good showmanship on his part, as well, for I was completely unknown and many of the people there were already fans of the band."

"It was a heady feeling, performing with so many people being so loudly appreciative. From that point on I consciously dropped good old Rupes and became Ripper. I even started putting rips in my street clothes, just to add to the effect. It was idiotic, really, but I was young."

"We practiced after hours at school, in the Slytherin dungeons, and performed some weekends. We would sneak out of the castle and Portkey to London. Deidre was a whiz at Charms, so creating the Portkeys was easy for her."

"It all went so very well, those first few months. I was having so much fun that I didn't even realize my grades were slipping. When I mentioned it Ethan only laughed and slapped me on the back, telling me that perfect marks were unnecessary anyway."

Giles sighed, staring down into his now-cool tea. "It wasn't until the end of term that things started to get out of control."

"It started mundanely enough. Phillip, Randall's brother, decided one night to throw us a little celebration. We had just won the city-wide Battle of the Bands, and we were, well, drunk on success. Phillip was a few years older than us, and he decided to throw us a grown-up, Muggle sort of party. That night he introduced us all to marijuana."

Molly cocked her head, speaking for the first time. "What's mary-wanna?"

"It's a drug, dear." Arthur said softly. "A Muggle drug. Right, Rupert?" Giles nodded. "We've had some instances at the Ministry of jokers selling it in potions kits, claiming it's sage."

The corner of Giles' mouth twitched. "I can only imagine the snarl that must have caused." Arthur lifted his eyes heavenward.

"You have no idea."

"So Randall Henry's Muggle brother was giving drugs to minors?" Molly said, her lips pursed.

"As Muggle drugs go, marijuana isn't so bad." Giles replied, running a hand through his hair. "We spent the rest of the night laying in a big tangle on the floor, listening to records and passing around the joint and a few bags of crisps. I had already begun smoking cigs for the image, and since I was allowed to drink with my parents at home alcohol held no fascination for me. It seemed like the logical step."

"From then on, it became tradition to get high after a good show. We were always careful to be sober before returning to the school the next morning. None of us held any illusions of what would happen to us if we were caught."

"I passed all my classes that year, though my marks were lower than they'd ever been. My father pulled me aside and gave me a Talk, which I ignored, causing an argument that resulted in me storming out of the house. I Flooed to London, got a job in Diagon Alley, and moved in with the Henry brothers. That was my first summer away from my father, and I felt so very adult for it."

"The band continued to meet. Sometime in early July Thomas got his hands on some cocaine, another Muggle drug, which he generously shared. Cocaine," Giles said for Molly's benefit, "is very different from marijuana, as it winds one up instead of calming them down. Ethan, Philip and Randall enjoyed it, but Deidre didn't like it at all. She said it was uncouth, if I remember correctly. She could be a bit of a prig at times."

"A few weeks later Deidre managed to find some black lotus brew."

Molly let out an audible gasp. Black lotus was a powerful and very illegal Wizarding hallucinogen. Rupert nodded, acknowledging her horror.

"From then, it became a sort of competition to see who could bring the group the best high. Unspoken, of course, if someone had said that out loud we all might have realized how bloody idiotic we were being. Over the course of the next year we tried every Muggle and Wizarding drug we could find. All of us overdosed or had a bad reaction to a drug at one point or another, but we always took care of each other, so it never really worried us." His head dropped into the palm of his hand. "We could have died a million times over, but the danger, of course, was part of the appeal. Lord, what a bunch of gits we were. Thank Merlin for Severus."

"Severus Snape?" Arthur asked. Giles nodded.

"By then, he was a fourth year, and already had a reputation for curing hangovers. It didn't matter what you were high on, he could make the potion to bring you down and sober you up. He saved my life at least once, and my dignity several times. We always paid him – he was invaluable to us, and we couldn't afford to be on bad terms with him. Still. I think he would have helped us even if we hadn't paid. Lord knows he was taking care of Narcissa Black regularly, and without compensation, too."

Molly looked up questioningly from the cup of fresh tea she was pouring. "Narcissa? What was Snape doing with her?"

Giles let out a huff of breath, taking the cup she proffered. "Cissy joined us sometimes, when we had one of our parties in the castle for a change. Randall liked her. Fancied her, I mean. He thought he could impress her, maybe get her to run away with him and not become a Malfoy. But she was never impressed with our little circus, and just before winter holiday I found out why. She was cranking."

"Oh, my God." Arthur said, eyes wide. Molly stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Giles.

"Rupert, she was only a third year." Molly whispered. Giles nodded, his face grim.

"The summer before, a crank dealer had gotten her hooked. Blown her so high on power she couldn't see straight. She was addicted before she even knew what was happening." He closed his eyes. "Thirteen years old. And some pervy middle-aged man was pumping her full of the blackest magic known to Wizardkind."

Images flashed across his eyelids. Thirteen-year-old Cissy, her eyes and hair solid black, collapsed in fourteen-year-old Severus' arms. Wide-eyed. Shivering. Green lightning playing over her skin, and in her eyes. Severus turning and yelling for him to get out, furious.

Entering the ruined Magic Box and seeing the woman he loved as his daughter in the same black-eyed state. Feeling his heart drop to his shoes.

He had never told Willow that she hadn't been the first he'd seen that way.

"How could Severus possibly help her?" Arthur asked, his voice raspy. He never thought he'd feel so much sorrow for a Slytherin.

Giles shook his head. "I'm still not clear, actually. It was almost as if he took the power into himself, some of it at least. Bled it off of her until she could function again. I don't know how. I'm not even sure if he took the power into himself or somehow dispersed it. If he did take it on, it would have been nigh-impossible to tell, seeing as his hair and eyes were already black. I wish I did know – it might have proven useful later."

He shook himself. "I'm sorry. I digress. This tale is turning into a bit more of a production than I had intended."

Molly smiled a little. "It's alright. The children will be outside for hours yet."

"Right, of course." He took a deep breath, finding his place in the narrative once more. "To make a long story...less long, we continued like that until the next summer."

"Ethan had heard of another sort of high, one that we hadn't tried yet. He came to visit me at home, under the guise of working on a project for seventh-year History of Magic, and together we went through Father's occult library until we found what we wanted."

Giles sighed. This was it – the hard part. How could he put into words the stupid and incredibly dangerous things he'd done?

He decided not to start with words.

Looking Arthur straight in the eye, Giles rolled up his left shirtsleeve, baring the black tattoo on his inner forearm. The Weasleys gasped, horrified.

"This is the mark of Eyghon." he said quietly. "A demon."

The other two seemed speechless, so Giles quickly went on.

"Eyghon, also known as the Sleepwalker, was a powerful and very old Etruscan demon. One of us would take a sleeping draught, and the others would perform the ritual to summon the demon. It would be drawn into the sleeper by the mark, causing a surge of power that was...well, indescribable. We considered it safer than cranking, because the demon was controlled by the ritual, though it had a similar effect."

"We became addicted, dropping everything else. We stopped performing, stopped practicing; our grades dropped to next to nothing and we even stopped using other drugs. What time we didn't spend in ritual or on the town with a demon-possessed friend was spent learning the Dark Arts and the rituals of Earth magic."

Arthur closed his eyes. This explained so much. He hadn't believed it, at the time, but looking back he could see Rupert, now going by Ripper, looking drawn and pale and paying absolutely no attention to class. Talking back to the teachers. Not turning in homework. At the time, well, he hadn't known what to think. It had been so utterly un-Rupert-like.

"Just after winter hols our seventh year, Randall lost control of the demon."

Giles sighed heavily, his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

"I don't know if we flubbed the ritual, or if something Randall did left Eyghon with an opening, but the next thing we knew he had his brother by the throat and was screaming something about destroying the ones who toyed with him. Thomas and Philip managed to grab Randall and hold him down, even though he was already changing, becoming the demon. Ethan, Deidre and I began the exorcism ritual."

"We were halfway through when Randall broke free and came at us. I didn't even think, I just reacted – and Ethan did the same. We both fired a Killing Curse at him."

Giles rubbed the back of his neck, his hands shaking. "I don't even know which of us got him. It didn't matter. He was dead, and as there was no unconscious or dead body nearby for the demon to possess, it left this realm. From then, everything became a blur."

"I don't know how the Ministry found out. Probably they tracked the curses, seeing as we were in Muggle London and both of us were still underage. The next thing I knew we were tried, convicted and expelled. I think we would have been put into Azkaban had we not been underage. I returned home in shame and my Father decided to send me to Oxford, to learn to become a Watcher."

Giles looked up at his oldest friend. "I know now that all these years you believed me innocent. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to know I always had your faith. But...I didn't deserve it. And you deserve to know that."

Arthur smiled gently, placing a hand on Giles' shoulder.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Rupes. I know you didn't mean for things to happen the way they did, but in a way, I'm glad." Giles looked up sharply, confused, and Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "You managed to get out before all hell broke loose. I'm sorry it took Randall Henry's death, but if you had stayed, the chances were very high that you, Ethan, and all the rest would have been either killed or recruited by You-Know-Who. I don't think I could have stood it if you and I had become enemies."

Giles nodded in understanding. "Everything has a reason," he said, almost to himself.

At that moment Willow burst through the back door, laughing and yelling something unintelligible over her shoulder. She turned towards the kitchen, cheeks flushed and smiling.

"Mrs. Weasley, George wants to know where you put the Spellotape, he's broken his..."

She stopped, taking in the scene in the dining room.

"Oh, my. Giles, what did I miss?"


	18. Ch 18: Don't Stop Me Now

AN: -_gasp_- An update, you say?! No, surely not!! It cannot be truuuue!

-_ahem_- Yes, well, RealLife strikes again. That and this amazing show called _Supernatural_, which I became addicted to and started writing furiously about. Hence why the very, very long space between postings.

But then the movie and the book came out, and _Deathly Hallows_ renewed my faith in JKR as a writer, and well…this fic called me once again.

I went back and re-read what's been posted so far, and man there are a LOT of errors in continuity and such. I'll go back and edit them someday, but for now I wanna ride this train of inspiration until it crashes.

So hopefully, there'll be a string of updates. (If my internet will just WORK for a change.)

* * *

**Chapter 18 – Don't Stop Me Now**

_Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time  
I feel alive  
And the world, turning inside out,  
Floating around in ecstasy, so  
Don't stop me now,  
Don't stop me,_  
'_Cause I'm having a good time,  
Having a good time!_

_-Queen_

"Xander, duck!" George bellowed as Fred sent the bludger screaming towards his head. Xander lay flat along his broomstick, his one good eye intent on Ron, just in front of him with the quaffle held easily in one big hand. He felt a rush of wind as the bludger breezed overhead, swinging around to the side as George smashed the thing towards his little brother.

Ron moved to get out of the way, but had to pull up sharply to keep from colliding into Harry, who had purposefully put himself in his path. The bludger hit him square in the back, and with an "oof!" he dropped the quaffle.

Xander dove in an instant, scooping the ball from the air and barreling unobstructed for the single goal ring at the end of the field. Judging the position carefully – a difficult task with no depth perception – he hauled back and let fly. Even as the ball left his hand he knew it wasn't going to make it, but the point was rendered moot when Ginny swooped out of nowhere and intercepted.

Swearing cheerfully and trading insults, the six young people played on.

The Weasleys and Harry had assured him that _real_ Quidditch, the kind played with three rings, four balls and seven players, was much more exciting, though Xander found that hard to believe. As it was, they were playing with only the one goal, a single bludger, and teams consisting of two Chasers and a single Beater. The Snitch, whatever that was, was locked tightly in the ball trunk on the lawn below. It sort of reminded Xander of the pick-up games of basketball he had watched but never been invited to join in middle school.

His lack of athletic ability and missing eye combined to make Xander a poor Quidditch player indeed, but he rather made up for it in his flying ability. Even with an old, inferior broom – and he thought the Cleansweep had been bad, hah – he was outstripping everyone on the field except Harry, and had yet to be hit by a bludger even once. Flying felt like nothing he'd ever experienced, like he was born to do so. Which, considering what he had been told about his father, was not entirely impossible.

Still, experience and aim won out over speed, and less than an hour later Ginny scored her sixth goal, bringing her team's total to 100 points. Apparently, the Snitch usually determined when the game was over, but since they weren't using it they had agreed that the first team to 100 would win. Ginny, Ron and Fred coalesced in the air above the center of the field, clapping each other on the back in celebration, while Xander came to earth for the first time in nearly four hours. He slid off his broom, his legs wobbling from the change, and tried to stay upright for a few moments before giving up and collapsing onto the grass. Harry, grinning at him, swooped down and jumped off his own broom, landing lightly on his feet. Xander gave him a one-eyed glare and groaned.

"I am going to hate myself so much tomorrow."

Folding to the ground beside him, Harry nodded.

"It does take getting used to. I was sore for _months_ when I first started training."

Turning his brown eye to the sky, Xander watched as George joined his siblings in the air, and the four of them took off in some sort of airborne tag. Airborne tag that involved rubber chickens, for some reason.

"This is so amazing." Xander said quietly, folding his hands behind his head. "I've only been here twenty-four hours and I've learned how to fly." He turned his head, focusing on Harry. "Was it like this for you, when you first found out?"

Harry smiled ruefully, his eyes on the Weasleys in the air. "Not quite. The first thing I did after learning I was a wizard was go shopping. Which, believe me, was an experience. But it's not flying."

Xander nodded, watching the red headed blurs above him for another moment, before frowning. "Hey, whatever happened to Willow? She must have gone inside nearly two hours ago."

They looked at each other, and wordlessly Harry stood, offering a hand to his brother. Xander took it, groaning as he was pulled upright. Together they made their way back to the house.

When they entered the kitchen, they found Mrs. Weasley teaching Willow to make a casserole – the magical way.

"Now float that bowl over to me, there's a dear…Chicken and noodles first, wait on the vegetables so they don't get soggy. Harry! Have a good time?"

Two glasses and a pitcher of pumpkin juice appeared on the table with a wave of her wand. Harry sat heavily and began pouring.

"Always do, Mrs. Weasley, but we're absolutely knackered now."

"Well, dinner will be ready soon. I've flooed Hermione, she'll be joining us."

"Brilliant," Harry replied with a grin. He turned to Xander. "I can't wait for you to meet her."

Xander smiled and nodded, but his attention was elsewhere. Near the sink, Willow was frowning thoughtfully at a bowl as it stirred itself. She lifted a hand and gestured, and a bunch of carrots lifted into the air, sliced themselves in the blink of an eye, and dropped into the still-stirring bowl.

"I'll be right back," he muttered, getting up abruptly. Harry stared after him as he left.

"What was that all about?" he asked, mostly to himself.

"Maybe he needed the loo, dear," Molly said distractedly. "Willow, the peas now please."

* * *

Xander knocked on the doorframe of the sitting room where Arthur and Giles sat talking, glasses in hand and a bottle of brandy between them. Both looked up.

"Giles, can I talk to you a sec?"

Excusing himself, Giles came over to the doorway. He cocked his head at Xander's serious expression.

"Something wrong?" he asked. Xander wrinkled his nose a bit.

"Should Willow be throwing magic around like that?" he asked, voice troubled. Giles, understanding Xander's worry, sighed.

"On the Hellmouth, absolutely not. Anywhere else, probably not. But this is a Wizarding household; it's soaked in magic from top to bottom. I doubt very much she'd be able to refrain." He quirked a reassuring smile. "I'm sure she'll be all right. She's learned a lot in the past few years, and the magic she's drawing on is the cleanest kind she will find."

"If you say so," Xander said, unconvinced. "It just makes me nervous, you know?"

"As it should," Giles replied. "But Willow can't ignore her magic; if she does it will build up inside her until it explodes. A controlled situation like this one, with supervision on hand, is the best we could hope for."

Realization dawned. "And the more she practices," Xander added, "the safer we'll all be."

"Exactly," Giles confirmed with a nod.

A loud '_whumph!_' interrupted their conversation, and both men turned to see Arthur helping a slightly disheveled young woman to her feet, still a bit sooty from the fireplace.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," the woman said, pulling out a wand and muttering a spell at herself. Her hair instantly returned to its place; the soot streaks disappeared. "I hate public fireplaces."

"Hermione, is that you?" Harry called, coming in from the other room. He slid between Xander and Giles, who were still in the doorway, and went to wrap his friend in a hug.

Hermione laughed when he picked her up and spun her around. "You're in a good mood! I expected you to be all angst and gloom after spending a week with Malfoy. Merlin knows I'd be ready to hex the next person who touched me."

"It wasn't nearly as bad as all that," Harry replied, setting her down and slinging an arm over her shoulders companionably. "If he pissed me off I just hexed him right there. Very cathartic."

"I see," Hermione said with a laugh. Looking up, she noticed the visitors for the first time.

"You must be Xander."

Xander nodded and stuck out his hand, giving her an easy smile. "You're Hermione," he replied as she took his hand. "Harry talks about you a lot."

"Oh dear," she replied, mock-alarmed. "Whatever he's said, I'm sure it's not true in the least."

Xander winked, an interesting feat for a man with only one eye. "I'll judge that for myself." Beside him, Giles coughed, and Harry quickly jumped in.

"This is Mr. Giles. He's an old friend of Mr. Weasley's."

"A pleasure, Miss Granger," Giles replied politely.

"Just Hermione," she replied, shaking his hand with a smile.

"Then you may call me Rupert, although most likely you will end up calling me Giles, everyone does."

"That's because Rupert is an awful name," Xander interjected with a grimace as they all turned towards the kitchen.

"It's not so bad," Hermione argued, tossing her hair out of her face. "I have a great-uncle Rupert."

A sound like a gunshot made them all jump. Alarmed, they all rushed around the corner to the kitchen, where they were greeted by a very white Willow.

"Oh dear," Willow said faintly, brushing ineffectually at the flour that covered her from head to toe. "I won't try _that_ again."

Molly Weasley, in the corner, was obviously and unsuccessfully trying to stifle giggles behind her hand.

"What in blazes?" Giles asked, a little in awe at the spectacular mess.

"Poor dear was trying to do too many things at once," Molly said, still shaking with suppressed laughter. "I suppose it just got away from her."

"Next time I'll just walk to the pantry," Willow added wryly.

Molly couldn't help it. She burst into giggles, leaning against the stove for support. Xander and Harry started snickering, and even Giles had to smile. Willow gave them all a tentative smile and a shrug, obviously embarrassed.

Only Hermione took pity on her.

"Here," she said, striding over to assess the damage. With a flick of her wand and a few well-chosen words, the flour disappeared, leaving Willow in her jeans and peasant top. Relieved, the redhead graced Hermione with a shy smile.

"Thank you," she said. She bit her lip, realizing she didn't know who her rescuer was. "I'm Willow."

"Hermione Granger," came the reply, and at that moment the Weasley children burst into the house, bringing with them a burst of fresh air and a clamor of voices.

"We heard a bang, Mum, did something blow up?" George asked.

"Whatever it was, we didn't do it," Fred added. Then he exchanged a look with his twin. "At least, I don't think we did."

"Nah, it was all Wills," Xander said. "But 'Mione here got it cleaned up."

"And I even managed to save the casserole," Molly said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Ginny, set the table, dear."

Ginny did a quick head count, found eleven people eating total, and went to ask her father to expand the table.

Dinner at the Weasleys' was always a noisy affair, but tonight there were so many conversations going Harry had trouble keeping up. On his left, the twins were interrogating Giles about the things he and Arthur had gotten up to in their ill-spent youth; tales Molly would never let her husband tell for fear of giving the next generation ideas. On his right, Xander was telling Ron, Ginny and a fascinated Arthur all about growing up Muggle. Across the table, Willow and Hermione were deep in discussion, comparing Wicca to Wizardry. And Molly was constantly dishing out second and third helpings, watching the commotion and grinning ear to ear.

She was just serving the dessert – treacle tart – when the unmistakable pop! of someone Apparating sounded from the kitchen. Since she was already standing, Molly went to investigate.

When she frantically called out Harry's name, he came running – along with the rest of the table. All stopped short at the sight before them.

There on the kitchen floor lay Draco Malfoy, unmoving in a pool of his own blood.


	19. Ch 19: Heaven Can Wait

Short, un-beta'd chapter here, guys, but the protests after that last cliffhanger were so loud I felt like I _had_ to update. More to come – especially now that my internet is working again.

Note: This one's kinda graphic. If you're particularly squeamish, I apologize.

* * *

**Chapter 19 – Heaven Can Wait**

_Hey, little angel, don't you tell me that it's over,  
You're just a bad reflection from above.  
The load upon my shoulder gives me reasons to get older  
Tell the boss I haven't had enough._

_Heaven can wait 'til another day,  
Cause there ain't no reason to leave.  
The world is a stage where we all can play,  
Another fine reason to live,  
And heaven can wait._

_-Gamma Ray_

Willow was the first to Draco's side, with Xander at her heels. Behind her, the Weasleys erupted in a clamor of voices.

"Merlin, is that Malfoy?"

"Is he dead?"

"Why's he here, of all places?"

"Everyone be quiet!"

To Willow's surprise, her exclamation was met with obedient silence.

"Thank you," she muttered, turning her attention back to where it was needed.

She laid a hand on Draco's chest, then against his pulse point. He was still breathing and pumping blood, though both were weak.

A quick examination revealed the source of all the blood – a head wound. She knew from experience that head wounds bled way more than it seemed they should. She lifted her head to look for something to staunch the bleeding and found Xander was already handing her a wet dishtowel.

"Is he ok?" Xander asked, quiet.

"He's alive, for now at least," Willow replied, pressing the cloth against the wound. "He's losing blood, though, a lot of it. We need a real doctor. Unless…" She looked hopefully up at Molly and Arthur. "You can just sorta…swish your wand at it?"

Molly shook her head sadly. "It doesn't work like that, dear."

"That's what I thought. We need a doctor then, now. Call 911, or whatever the Wizard equivalent is."

"I'll floo St. Mungo's," Hermione said, already moving towards the fireplace in the other room.

"No!" Arthur exclaimed. "Not Mungo's. The Death Eaters have it under surveillance. Call Dumbledore, get him to bring Madam Pomphrey." Hermione nodded and was gone, and Arthur turned back to the scene. "He shouldn't be moved, not until we know the full extent of his injury."

"The blood's not stopping," Willow said, panic creeping into her voice. She gently wiped the blood off Draco's forehead and went sickly white when a chunk of flesh lifted with it. Quickly, she pressed it back down and covered the wound with the cloth.

"Oh my God, it's worse than I thought. It's so deep." She closed her eyes and swallowed roughly. "I think I saw bone."

"Merlin," Ron said, his eyes wide as saucers. "How the bloody hell did he manage that?

"I'm more curious how he managed to Apparate with a wound that ugly," Fred muttered. George opened his mouth to add his two cents but Hermione's appearance in the doorway cut him short.

She was breathless, her hair all in disarray. "Dumbledore's not in his office!" she said, obviously flustered. "And there's no fireplace in the hospital wing."

"His pulse is getting weaker!" Willow called, in full-out panic mode now. "Giles, I'm gonna – "

"No, Willow, you'll only make it worse. Healing's the one thing you can't do, you know that."

"Then what good is magic?! Giles, he's gonna die!"

Actually saying it seemed to send the severity of the situation home to the rest of the room, because everyone started throwing out suggestions. The clamor did not help, and Willow, frantically trying to stop her friend from bleeding to death, felt more helpless than she ever had before.

"Should we call a muggle ambulance?" Xander asked behind her.

"How?" she replied, close to tears. "No phone, and besides, we're in England. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Giles would." Xander stood to get Giles' attention, but stopped short when a new man swooped in from the sitting room.

He was dressed all in black, with greasy black hair and a severe set to hawk-like features. Harry, behind him, was streaked with soot; with a start Willow realized he must have gone to the fireplace and called this man. In the commotion, she hadn't even noticed him leave.

Even though the new man looked like a Big Bad wannabe – and the way the Weasley children had gone silent and were backing away certainly did not help that impression – Willow decided to trust Harry's judgment and didn't protest when the man knelt next to Draco, uncorked a flask from somewhere deep within his robes, and unceremoniously poured the contents down Draco's throat.

After a few moments with no visible change, Xander cleared his throat.

"Uh, was that supposed to do something?"

The man turned an impressively menacing glare up toward him. Willow saw Ginny blanche from across the room, but Xander, who had dated scarier, only cocked an eyebrow.

Huffing out an annoyed breath, the man relented.

"It's a blood replenishing potion. It will keep him alive until help arrives."

"Is help coming?" Willow asked, feeling small.

A '_whumpf_!' from the fireplace in the other room, audible now that everyone was quiet again, answered her question. The woman that bustled in was short, plump and all business. She took in the scene at a glance and started rapping out orders.

"Molly, get your children out of here, they can't help and they'll only be in the way. Severus, you gave him the potion?" The Man in Black, as Willow had dubbed him in her head, nodded, and Mrs. Weasley began shooing her children into the sitting room. Giles took Arthur's arm and led him after her, recognizing that they were both unnecessary as well.

"Miss," the woman said, her voice taking on a kindlier tone, "thank you for your quick action. You may have saved his life. Now, if you would just…?"

Willow, realizing what she wanted, carefully pulled the blood-soaked towel away from Draco's forehead. Because Xander had wet it, it fortunately did not stick to the wound.

The woman tutted under her breath.

"Awful business, just awful. Poor dear." She touched the wound with her wand, cleaning away the blood in an instant. With the skin bare, they could all see that Willow had been right about the severity of the wound – a deep, jagged cut stretched from Draco's right eyebrow up into his hairline. At the place where it was widest, bleach-white bone was visible.

"Miss, if you would hold out your hands?" the woman said. Willow automatically did as she was told, and the witch cleaned her hands the same way. "Now. I know this will be hard, but I need your help. You must pinch the skin back together, so I can seal it."

Willow, feeling bile rise in her throat, nodded and did as she was told. The ragged, torn edges of Draco's skin felt absurdly thin and fragile under her fingers. In the small corner of her mind that wasn't panicking or trying not to panic, Willow guessed that that was exactly why she'd been asked to do it rather than the Man in Black – smaller fingers, a more delicate touch for a delicate operation.

The woman, who by now Willow had guessed was Madam Pomphrey, pulled a jar of salve from the satchel at her side and began gently applying it to the wound. Curious, Willow bent down and watched as the petroleum-jelly-like substance coalesced into hundreds of small fibers, burrowing into and holding the skin together the way stitches would. In a few moments, the wound disappeared from view under a raised seam of miniscule threads, almost like embroidery.

"Will he be OK now?" Xander asked, speaking for the first time since Pomphrey had entered the room. She didn't answer, instead pulling out her wand and dragging it up the full length of Draco's body.

A frown crossed her features as she passed his ribs.

"A Needleburst Hex, nasty. Haven't seen one of those since the War. And – oh, my!"

She gently unbuttoned the first three buttons of Draco's ruined gray button-down and pulled it aside, revealing ugly purple bruising from jugular to shoulder.

"His collarbone is fractured," she informed them, pulling a small bottle from her bag. "It's a good thing you didn't move him, or you might have broken it completely." She tipped a few swallows of the foul-smelling liquid down Draco's throat. From her position, Willow could see the bottle was labeled "Skele-Mender, from the makers of Skele-Gro".

"It looks like a footprint," Xander observed, pointing at the bruise. "See?"

Willow examined the bruise and realized Xander was right.

"Not a footprint, a _shoe_print," she corrected. "And unless I'm imagining things, a woman's shoe. Look at how small the heel is." She indicated what she meant. "He was kicked in the chest by a woman in stilettos."

Madam Pomphrey ran her wand over the spot again, nodded in satisfaction, pulled out yet another jar of salve and started applying it to the bruising, which faded immediately from purple to a dull yellow, as if it had been healing for several days.

"It will take a few hours for the fracture to completely mend, but he can be moved now. Molly!" she called. Mrs. Weasley poked her head in from the next room.

"Yes, Poppy?"

"I don't suppose you have another bed? Draco shouldn't travel."

Molly thought for a second, then nodded. "He can take Percy's old room."

Willow heard the Man in Black snort softly. "He'll love that," he mumbled under his breath.

"He'll live," Madam Pomphrey countered. She gently arranged Draco so his arms were straight out at his sides. "Severus, if you would?"

"_Petrificus Totalus_," the man muttered. Draco's body suddenly went stiff and Willow realized that he might have been further injured by the sudden movement if he hadn't already been in almost that exact position. "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

Xander and Willow hastily backed away as Draco's body levitated. Molly bustled out of the room, with the Man in Black – Severus, Willow corrected herself – floating Draco out after her.

Willow let out a deep breath. He was gonna be okay.

Then she stood, staggered over to the sink, and vomited violently.


	20. Ch 20: Superheroes

AN: Hey look, an update!

Don't get used to it.

-dies-

ooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

**Chapter 20 – Superheroes**

_City lights are calling  
Slowly coming back to life  
Speeding in the fast lane  
Mama let us waste no time_

_Devil in the doorway  
Selling any kind of hell  
We're just coming out to play the game..._

_We never cry for love - We're superheroes  
We are back where we belong  
We never cry for pain - We're superheroes  
Make a stand where we belong  
We're superheroes_

_-Edguy_

Willow was bent over the sink for what felt like forever, though was barely two minutes in reality. Xander was at her side, holding her hair away and rubbing soothing circles on her back. When she finished, he handed her a second damp towel to clean her face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, obviously concerned.

She nodded, though the tears in her eyes gave her away. Xander raised an eyebrow and she found herself huddled into his embrace, hiding her face against his chest.

"It was so _clean_," she told his shirt. "I could see the bone, and the muscle, and the fat layer. So surgical, so _wrong_, so much like…" And she trailed off.

She didn't need to continue. Xander understood. The magically cleaned wound had reminded her of her gruesomely precise murder of Warren Meers. Xander had witnessed it, and the memory still made him a bit nauseous as well.

Warren hadn't even had time to scream. One second he was fine, if tied to a tree; the next his skin had been peeled away from the bottom up, like someone taking off a shirt, leaving nothing but tendons and musculature and rapidly escaping blood. He'd actually remained alive for a moment, eyes lidless and frightened, just long enough to realize what had happened. Then the shock and blood loss killed him.

So Xander just held Willow while she sobbed her way down to sniffles. When Giles stuck his head in to check on them, Willow was wiping her eyes and only her red face gave away her brief loss of composure.

Their surrogate father gave them a questioning look, but Xander just shook his head. Giles, understanding, let it go. He stepped to the side to admit Arthur and Molly, both looking concerned, and Harry, whose face was stony.

"He'll be alright?" Molly asked, and Xander gave her a somewhat helpless shrug.

"I think so," he replied. "I just wanna find out what happened, you know? That wasn't an accident; he was attacked."

"They better start running now, whoever it was," Willow muttered, letting her hair fall in front of her face to disguise her tear-reddened eyes. Xander, the only one close enough to hear her clearly, gave her shoulders a quick squeeze.

"He wasn't at home," Harry commented, his voice flat. "Malfoy Manor's under an anti-Apparition spell. He must have gone out. Alone." He balled his hand into a fist as his side, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table. "What the bloody hell was he _thinking_?" he asked no one in particular. "He _knows_ he's a target. Idiot."

Arthur exchanged a startled glance with Molly. They'd guessed from the way Harry had spoke of his time at the Manor that he was on somewhat better terms with Draco, but he was taking this incident a bit more personally than they would have expected. It was obvious, also, that Xander, Willow and even Giles were considering this an attack on all of them, not just Draco.

"I believe I can answer that question, Mr. Potter."

The Man in Black from earlier swooped into the room in his melodramatic, bat-like way. In his left hand he brandished a rolled up scroll like a weapon. Striding over to the table where Harry sat, he slammed the scroll down, simmering with barely contained anger.

"Explain," he said quietly. Harry stared defiantly up at him for a moment before unrolling the scroll.

"Concerning the holdings of the Black family estate," he read, and his eyes grew wide. Silence reigned for a few moments as he read the rest silently.

After a few moments, he wordlessly held the scroll out to Xander, who took it and read it quickly. Willow, reading over his shoulder, let out a squeak of surprise.

"Goddess," she exclaimed. "He did it!"

Harry fixed her with a questioning look.

"You _knew_ about this?"

Willow blinked.

"Ye-yes. He mentioned it yesterday while you and Xander were flying."

"Mentioned what?" Molly asked, somewhat alarmed. "What did he do?"

Xander turned the scroll around for her to see.

"He had me named heir to the Black estate."

The look on nearly everyone's face was priceless. Xander found himself wishing he had a camera.

"As Narcissa Black's son," Severus added, his voice speculative. "Are you?"

Xander shrugged, unfazed by the man's scrutiny. "That's what they tell me. I suppose we could have some sort of blood test done to be sure."

"We already did," Harry said from his position at the kitchen table. "The ritual Malfoy and I used to find you required blood. Only someone directly related to both of us would have been targeted."

"Directly related to_both_ – " Severus began. Then he stopped, black eyes widening in realization. He looked to Xander, then to Harry, obviously putting two and two together.

"I see," he said heavily. He studied Xander again, sneered in disgust, and turned with a dramatic swirl, obviously intent on leaving the room. But he stopped cold when his gaze landed on Giles, leaning in the doorway, for the first time.

"Hello, Sev," Giles said quietly.

Severus's wand was out in an instant, leveled directly at Giles's face. Everyone else in the room took a step forward or went for their wands, but before they could even get them out Giles held up a hand to stop them.

"You shouldn't be here," Severus snarled venomously. "You were exiled."

"I have written permission to return," Giles replied, voice mild. "Would you like to see it?"

Growling in frustration, Severus dropped his wand arm to his side. "No. You wouldn't dare show your face if you didn't." He flinched suddenly, flexing his left wrist at his side, and whirled to address the rest of the room.

"I'll be back later tonight to check on my godson," he said, the unspoken warning clear, and with a pop he Apparated away.

Giles sighed.

"That could have gone better."

* * *

The first thing Draco saw when he woke up was an off-white, cracked plaster ceiling. He stared at it for a moment, contemplating the numerous questionable stains in that abstract way one has when they're not really awake yet. As brain function returned, it occurred to him that the ceiling was not a familiar one. 

He looked around, taking in cheap, battered wood furnishings, an old bookcase stuffed to the brim with dry-looking books titled _Wizarding Economics_ or _The Life and Times of Cornelius Fudge_, and the plain, cheap navy blue cotton of his bedspread. He couldn't imagine where he could possibly be.

Then his gaze landed on Ginny Weasley in the doorway and he knew.

"Merlin," he grumbled. "I've died and gone to Hell."

"No such luck," Ginny told him, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway. "You're still alive, and you're in Percy Weasley's room."

Draco closed his eyes, horrified. Ginny gave an amused snort.

"Well, you can't be hurt that badly if you're being snobbish."

Cracking an eye open, Draco gave her a withering look.

"Weasel, I'll be snobbish on my deathbed. It'll be one of the few pleasures left to me."

"Whatever," Ginny replied, waving him off. "I've just got one question for you, and then I'll get out of your holy presence." She narrowed her eyes. "Why here?"

"Huh?" Draco asked, not following.

"Why'd you Apparate here, of all places? What was your injury-addled mind thinking?"

Silence. Draco frowned, thinking back. Why _had _he come to the Weasley's?

Oh. Right.

"Because Xander was here," he said, simply.

Ginny studied him for a moment, then nodded, seeming to find that satisfactory. Without another word, she was gone.


	21. Ch 21: Symphony of Destruction

Short chapter before I go to work - I cannot beLIEVE I actually got through this one. Argh to writer's block!

I hate winter.

* * *

**Chapter 21 – Symphony of Destruction**

_You take a mortal man  
And put him in control  
Watch him become a god  
Watch people's heads roll_

_Just like the Pied Piper  
Led rats through the street  
Dance like the marionette  
Swaying to the symphony of destruction_

_-Megadeth_

Severus stopped just outside of the Dark Lord's room at the Lestrange estate. He had to calm down. That he was upset wasn't evident to the casual observer, but every single one of the Death Eaters had known him long enough to see it. He could sort through the situation with Narcissa's son – _sons_ – later.

A deep breath, squared shoulders, and the mask fell into place. Knowing he couldn't afford to hesitate, Severus threw open the door with a flourish and entered confidently, head held high. His robes flowed around him as he bowed to a height calculated to be respectful without being simpering.

"You summoned me, my Lord?" he murmured. His voice carried clearly through the large chamber.

"Sevvie's in trou-ble!" came a soft, sing-song voice. Snape stood and glared at Bellatrix, standing in the shadows somewhere to the right of Voldemort's ornate armchair. Bella grinned maliciously back at him.

Snape decided discretion was the better part of valor and ignored her.

"Is something wrong?"

"Severus," Voldemort hissed. "Were you aware that young Mr. Malfoy left Malfoy Manor this afternoon?"

Severus let his face register mild shock. "Did he? He did not inform me of any plans." Which was the complete truth. It had to be – Severus could feel the slimy touch of Voldemort's Legillimancy on his mind.

Accepting this response, Voldemort dropped his gaze to the snake in his lap, petting her absently.

"He was encountered in Diagon Alley. At Gringott's, no less. This was a missed opportunity, Severus. Had we been aware he was leaving, we might have wrapped up a few…loose ends."

"I'll speak with him tonight, my Lord. He won't leave without my knowledge again."

"Severus, Severus," Voldemort sighed, his tone falsely patriarchal. "That is not the point."

Snape stayed silent, fighting the urge to fire off a biting remark. He hated it when Voldemort was condescending. Let him be all smiles and false propriety, or let him vent his rage and bile on anyone who came near. Not this.

Voldemort pointed a long, bony finger at him.

"The _point_ is, you no longer have the boy's complete trust."

Though his face remained impassive, Snape's heart stuttered. Draco's continued existence depended on their perceived bond.

"I am sure that is not the case, my Lord. He may only have thought his errand beneath my notice. I will correct him."

"I am not so assured as you." He turned his hand towards himself, making a show of examining the long, sharpened nails, and did not look at Snape when he spoke. "You are lucky Bellatrix happened upon him, or we might never have known."

Snape looked up sharply at that. He glanced at Bella, noting for the first time the smug look on her face, the singed ends of her hair, and the three-inch, pointed-toe Muggle-style stiletto boots she was wearing.

Rage welled up. He fought it down to the very center of his soul and capped it tightly.

_Now is not the time_.

"There is also the matter of Potter's visit."

"What's this now?" Snape asked, taken off guard. Bellatrix smiled toothily at him again.

"Potty-boy's been visiting dear Draco."

Snape blinked.

"What? Why?"

"Both excellent questions." Voldemort caught his gaze and searched it, throwing the power of Legilimens behind it. He needn't have bothered. In this case, Snape's surprise was completely genuine.

Foiled again, Voldemort gave a long-suffering sigh and tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet to Severus. Severus caught it and glanced down at the circled article.

"'Boy-Who-Lived Fraternizes with Enemy'. Reliable sources inform us that renowned young wizard Harry Potter has spent the last few days in the home of Draco Malfoy, son of convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy and suspected supporter of You-Know-Who…" He stopped there. "Did that Skeeter woman write this? Rubbish. They hate each other, they always have."

"Not at all. My spies confirmed it. They were seen flying together above the Malfoy grounds." Voldemort's smile was mocking. "Are you still so sure he trusts you?"

Snape drew himself up stiffly. "I will find out."

"Good. I would hate to waste such potential. Our agreement stands, for the time being." He looked up then, fixing Severus with a lidless stare. "_Crucio_."

Severus didn't even see the wand turn towards him, not that it mattered. He fell to his knees and grit his teeth through the agony, refusing to scream, just like every other time he'd experienced Cruciatus. No matter what part he was forced to play, his pride simply would not let him scream.

After what felt like ages (but was likely a matter of seconds), the pain receded. Snape shook his head to clear his bleary vision and looked up to see Bellatrix standing over him.

"Severus," Voldemort said in a bored tone, "don't fail me again."

"Yes, my Lord," Snape grit out, unable to look away from his godson's wicked aunt. Bella grinned that shark-toothed grin and took Snape's wrists, hauling him to his feet with a strength that belied her small stature. Snape, caught off guard and still woozy, stumbled forward slightly. Bellatrix caught him by the shoulders and steadied him, leaning up to bring her face close to his ear.

"It's better if you scream, you know," she whispered gleefully. "It hurts less."

Snape jerked away, allowing his hatred to show on his face for just a moment. Then it was gone, replaced by the impassive Professor.

"Stay out of my business, Lestrange," he growled, and with a respectful bow to his Lord he was gone.

* * *

When Ginny had come down to inform the room that Draco was awake, Xander, Willow, Giles and even Harry had immediately wanted to go to his side. Molly wouldn't hear of it, though, telling them in no uncertain terms that they were not to crowd the poor boy, doctor's orders. Ginny suggested that Xander go to see him first and everyone else agreed.

Draco regarded Xander with a weak eyebrow.

"Are you going to come in, or are you going to gape like a fish?"

Xander snorted, crossing the threshold and gently shutting the door behind you.

"I should probably be lecturing you right now," he said.

"On what?"

"On how _stupid_ it was to go out by yourself." Xander pulled over the desk chair, turned it around, and straddled it. He crossed his arms over the back and rested his chin on them. "But somehow I think you've learned your lesson."

Draco closed his eyes, letting his head fall back into the pillow. "Believe me, I have. It does me no good to try and do something nice for someone."

Xander cocked a half-smile, thinking how very much like Spike Draco sounded sometimes. "I appreciate it, though. I really do." He fingered the scroll in his pocket. "A manor house and a very large number of Galleons – whatever those are. It's more than I could ever have hoped for."

Eyes still closed, Draco smirked. "It's nothing compared to the Malfoy fortune, I can assure you."

"You wanted to surprise me, didn't you?" Xander asked quietly. "That's why you didn't tell anyone you were going. That's why you didn't come with us today."

"Oh, no. I meant every word I said about the Weasleys. If it was up to me, I would never have come within a dozen miles of this wretched little hovel." He wrinkled his nose. "Unfortunately, circumstances give me little choice."

Silence reigned for a moment. Draco began to think Xander had left, and was about to open an eye to check when the other man spoke.

"Drake…who attacked you?"

Draco paused, considering how to answer that question. After a moment, he decided Xander was entitled to the whole truth.

"My aunt."

When Xander didn't respond Draco cracked an eye open, registering the shock on his brother's face. He sighed.

"Bellatrix Lestrange is my – _our_ – mother's elder sister. She's always been unstable but since the Dark Lord came back she's been…well, let's just say he encourages her violence." Draco winced as a sharp pain flashed through his collarbone – the Skele-Mender at work. "She believes I'm a muggle-loving blood traitor, because I refused the Mark. Just like Sirius and Aunt Andromeda." He paused for a moment. "She's the one who killed Sirius."

"Harry's godfather?" Xander asked quietly. Draco nodded, wincing again as the motion caused more pain.

"Yeah. He was her cousin." Draco laughed bitterly, opening steel-grey eyes to stare at the ceiling. "You know what she said? She said I've been taken by the Potter craze. That I was just another pathetic plebian, believing that a mere boy could harm the most powerful wizard alive." His fists clenched into the blankets. "That's why."

"Why what?"

"Why she did this." He lifted a shaky hand to indicate his stitched-up forehead. "Why she cut my face open. She said if I loved Potter so much, I should have a scar to match."


End file.
